The Last of Us: New Leaves
by iMachine
Summary: After a student graduates military school, they are exposed to the dark sides of the military that involve corruption and murder. Simply following orders to execute a Firefly, they fall into the dangers of the regime. However, nearly becoming desensitized, their humanity is attained in a way they don't expect. [Completed].
1. Introduction

_( **A/N:** Hello. I was inspired to write a second _ TLoU _story_ _following different characters. I suggest r_ _ead in dark contrast along with the_ TLoU _OST_.)

 _( **Update 7/8/17:** Merged previous chapters 5  & 6, 8 & 9, 11 & 12, 14 & 15, and 30 & 31)_

* * *

 **INTRODUCTION**

* * *

It was about two decades since the Cordyceps Brain Infection (CBI) broke out, and it took nothing to destroy everything within the first couple of days. It took over humanity, controlling it wild with fear. People were killed, families were torn apart, and the world slowly fell into chaos. The diverse cultures and traditions that the world had before the outbreak was now all forgotten. To others, the true meaning of this life no longer meant to follow your dreams...it meant to survive. And even though people might argue that the world was always about that before, 'surviving' was a subjective word in this time period. Today, 'survive' brought a whole new and literal interpretation—and that was all. The infection brought people's worst nightmares to life, showing everyone—no matter how wealthy, intelligent, or strong, that all humans shared a common enemy: Their own brain. It seemed like no matter what people did, the infection just seemed to spread more and more, and just as the infection did, so did the corruption of people's minds.

And although the infection was dangerous, humanity was becoming the true threat. The people who were depended on to serve and protect in the past evolved into something completely new. The government appointed the military and FEDRA a totalitarian force, which many civilians opposed. Martial law was imposed and quarantine zones were built from the leftovers of city capitals. Along with the new military, came the formation of the Fireflies—a militia that publicly swore to fight the tyranny and oppression of the new government. However, like every cloud in the sky, there is a silver lining.

* * *

James did it. He triumphantly proved it to himself and his instructors that he could become a soldier. During his last years in preparatory school, he believed that he could make a difference. He was fed with the constant, "you'll make a change" and the "this world needs people like you" bull. All that was left to do was to pack his bags and prepare himself for the real deal. It was during the late hours of the night and James just couldn't bring himself to sleep; excitement tended to do that.

"I can't believe it, Al," James said, talking to his bunk buddy.

James laid back on his bed, regularly shirtless. He stared directly out of the window beside his bed. The sky was a deep pasty blue and lightning flashed in the skies with thunders too far off to be heard. The atmosphere was gloomy humid, but it didn't make any difference from a regular day. James felt it almost everyday in this prison, " _I'll finally be getting out of here,_ " he'd think to himself.

Al slept on the top bunk, and was dozing off at this point. Al was an average joe just like James, except he wasn't so bent up on leading in the military. He told stories about the Fireflies; stories that sounded like urban legends or things that were too good to be true. Getting hints like that made Al look up to wanting to become apart of something like that. He wanted to be remembered from notoriety and not forgotten like some thrown out puppet. The military would normally refer to Al's current mindset as conspiracy, but it was no reason to sell out a good friend. Besides, he wasn't the only person to think like that.

"Al?" James called out.

"Hm?" He groaned out, opening his blue eyes.

"Are you aslee-?" James slightly sat up and looked directly at the top bunk's frame, "How the hell can you sleep on a night like this?"

"I'm sorry man, you know we-" he caught himself, "Sorry, _I_ have training early tomorrow."

"You mean today," James looked over at the digital clock on their dresser, "It's 12 AM."

Al groaned even louder, rubbing his eyes and turning his body flat on his back. He watched the ceiling, drowsily blinking a couple of times.

"Honestly? Congrats. You're getting what you wanted," Al added.

"I hope you aren't being sarcastic?" James asked with a light chuckle.

"Nah, man. I'm serious," He exhaled, "I know we've only been roommates for a couple of months, but you're a cool dude. It's gonna suck without you."

A smirk appeared on James' face.

"Thanks, man. Likewise."

The earlier hours of the morning finally arrived and it was 6 AM the very moment they both closed their eyes. James thought that since he graduated, it meant no training for him, but apparently he was wrong. Due to his upbringing on magazines, James' grew to have an interest in fitness. With daily workouts being his everyday activity, his body was trained enough for heavy duty school exercises, and it was nothing to him at this point. He was typically and informally described as "beefy" by his mentors, and he preferred looking like a linebacker rather than statue-like or a body builder. One final thing James had over his competitive peers was height and a charming face.

After training was done, James met up with Al for lunch in the cafeteria. It was often annoying, having to sit with other loud and unruly teenagers, but it was something James learned to deal with, especially since the main goal was to be leaving the place. Al, who sat across from James, noticed that James wasn't eating. James _not_ eating was something alarming since James loved food; it was his "source of protein" as he'd always say.

"You haven't touched your mashed potatoes," Al said just before putting his cubed pineapples into his mouth.

"I can't. I'm a nervous wreck right now," James ironically admitted, finally removing his spork from its plastic.

"You sounded so nervous last night," Al laughed after getting a shrug from James, "You have nothing to worry about. Just go in and don't make an ass of yourself."

After lunch, James was in his dorm with Al. There was more training to be done, but James was already advised to not attend because he'd be getting picked up by soldier soon. Al helped James pack his duffel bags and there wasn't much clothes to go around in times like this, so it was normal for people to travel lightly. Not only was it normal, but it was entirely recommended. Giving a sharp exhale and folding his arms, James looked around to see that all of his belongings were securely packed.

"Thanks, Al..." James said sounding different than his usual self. James playfully slapped Al on the shoulder, "I guess I'll be seeing you on the other side, huh?"

A bit confused, Al looked up at James.

"When you're a Firefly?" He whispered jokingly.

Al chuckled. Just within those last moments, Al opened their dorm door to three knocks. Awaiting outside were two armed soldiers, one man and one woman.

"Uh, James?" The man questioned, looking up from a clipboard.

Dressed appropriately for the slightly breezy weather, James placed on his black cap and gave Al a friendly nod before exiting with the soldiers. Walking into the hallway with the soldiers, James turned to one of the soldiers to greet him with a handshake. Completely ignoring James, he turned around and walked off. James was a little embarrassed but ignored it and continued followed after them. James examined the soldiers' gear and clothing and he could already see himself in it, imagining that he would look extremely well in army attire. But as James followed the soldiers, he realized that their attitudes were a lot different than he expected. He didn't receive a proper greeting nor a congratulation from either of them. He didn't need one, but he thought it'd be assuring to get some kind of support from people he'd soon be calling his new family. Finally, James was hit by the dim lights of the outside once the heavy double doors were pushed open.

Exiting gates of the military school, James saw a military transport truck waiting outside for them all. Stopping to turn around and look back at his former school, James heard one of the soldiers speak behind him.

"Hurry up, newbie! We gotta move."

James turned around and walked to the transport vehicle to climb in through the back. As he opened the drapery covering the entrance to the back he noticed about five other men and women, all tough and miserable looking. There were some that looked about his age, some looked much older. Something James could instantly pick apart from this bunch and himself is that they all looked the part. In times like this, James took the time to look presentable, whether it was a simple shave or a smile. These guys, on the other hand, did not have one smile on their greasy faces. The back of the vehicle reeked a of perspiration and the group in the back were clearly uncomfortable. Considering some of their sizes, they were hunched up against one another. James proceeded to climb in and took a look at one spot—assumed to be saved for him. The vehicle immediately started up and sped off out of the zone and into the streets before he could even get comfortable.

The ride to the military base was uncomfortable and long. It was bumpy and really awkward. Turning over to a man who sat beside him, James asked a simple question he was sure he'd get an answer to,

"Do you know where we're going?"

Silently the man just shook his head and, frankly, didn't seem to care. There were times where the others in the back of the truck would make eye contact, but James knew that engaging in long eye contact usually meant wanting a fight, so the moment James eyes met another's he'd turn away. The ride took hours, and from what James noticed, the group would stop at different quarantine zones to make sure everyone went to the bathroom. Eventually, they were all fed, but it wasn't too long before they were right back on the road. After dozing off, James felt the vehicle finally came to a stop. Becoming alert again, he kept his head up, listening to both the driver's and passenger's door slam. Instantly, the drapery in the back of of the cargo truck was pulled back. It was the female soldier.

"Get out. We're here," she demanded.

Since James was at the end of the seat, he was quick to grab his bags before exiting the vehicle. Landing firmly on his feet upon his exit, he looked at one of the soldiers,

"Where are we?" James asked.

"Boston," she answered, quite annoyed.

Boston? They transported James from Pennsylvania to _Massachusetts_ without even telling him. It wasn't like he had family back home or anything, and he was pretty sure that was the reason they didn't bother informing him in the first place. His district within the Boston quarantine zone he was in particularly wasn't _that_ big than the last one he last lived in, but he knew it'd take a while to get use to. There was nothing out of the ordinary; the streets were trashed and there was no trace of vegetation anywhere. Leave it to humans to tear down mother nature, which only made sense why the rest of the uninhabited places in the world had plants growing freely. James took it all in, looking around at the civilians who glared at him as if he were fresh meat–they could tell a fresh face when they saw one. The chatter in the area was minimal, but swearing and arguing could clearly be heard in all parts of the district. James looked over at the security guards patrolling the outside of their base.

"Who the fuck are you lookin' at?" One of the soldiers said. Shocked, James looked up to realize that the soldier wasn't speaking to him. Following the soldier's gaze, James ended up looking across the street, seeing a group of teens exchanging dirty looks at the soldiers, "You think I'm afraid to waste these three bullets on you pieces of shit?" He spat again.

The teens got the message and instantly took off running. The exact same soldier briefly looked up at James and took a double take. James, who stared back was a little intimidated until the same soldier gave him a smirk. All James could do was look away after that. It wasn't a friendly smirk, but more like a condescending one especially since it was followed by a scoff. The smug look on all of their faces were drunk—with a lot of power.

* * *

Before departing, recruits were rounded up and all was explained that there would be orientation the next day and that one of the reasons they needed to recruit six soldiers was because ten died within the last month. They lined up, grabbed their uniforms, and were explained to that their shifts would sometimes be unorganized. Like every person who works on the force, trouble can pop up at any time, so you always had to be prepared, and James was prepared for that. It wasn't too long before James was given a pamphlet and directed to his apartment that he'd be sharing with another soldier. The floorboards never stopped creaking until you reached the hard tiles in the bathroom and kitchen. It smelled a little musty although most of the windows had holes blown in them. James rested his bag on the nearby sofa and looked over at the soldier he would be sharing the raggedy apartment with. He extended out an arm and looked at him.

"James," James introduced, offering a handshake.

"Hadeed," he replied unenthusiastically. With a lack of interest, he shook James' hand and walked away, locking himself in one of the bedrooms.

In the meantime, James threw himself back on the couch and laid back to relax.

* * *

Ever since arriving to Boston and becoming an official soldier, four days passed by James in the blink of an eye. He gained all he needed to know. He met the captain and lieutenants and was actually exchanging words around the base. His life was literally wasting away by this point. Being a military soldier was probably not what James expected. The others on the other hand, had a great time harassing the civilians within the zone. It was annoying sometimes, and no matter how James tried to become friendly with the people and families around him, he was always shunned. Like every other day, James was ordered to stand patrol outside the facility with four other soldiers. He was armed with an assault rifle and pistol, and hadn't used a single bullet yet.

Scanning the area with it's damp atmosphere, he looked over at one particular officer who would he would often catch staring at him. She was a brunette, pretty average looking with very pale skin and dark eyes. She would be considered your all-American beauty. As James looked back, he naturally smiled at her. As she stared back at James a little while longer, her smile began to crack. Suddenly, her attention was grabbed by the checkpoint of the quarantine zone. The large gates, from where they stood, could be seen flying open and being sealed shut. According to their captain, that was their most important sign on any day.

It was two much older men with both their hands on their heads, being escorted by two officers—one was dark skinned accompanied by a bearded, pale man.

"What's wrong with these two?" A soldier on James' party asked.

"Caught these two outside of the quarantine zone,"

"Fuck. Again?"

Placing them within the perimeters in which James and the other officers did, the soldier's handled the stragglers quite roughly, kicking them to their knees. They screamed and shouted back, but it didn't make anyone sympathize with them more.

"Hey," the dark skinned soldier shouted, "New kids."

James and the girl turned around.

"Time to learn how to check for infections."

James stuttered at first but the words eventually got out,

"Th-they never gave me a scanner."

"Use mine," the bearded one said, "Pulling the scanner from his side."

James grabbed the scanner from his cold hands as he continued to be instructed on what to do. But what James didn't know was that this was a topic that military school never covered. James did as he was told and softly placed the scanner around the base of the civilians head, who was shaking uncontrollably. After a beep was heard, James pulled back his arm and looked down at the scanner that read "INFECTED" in large red letters. The feeling in James' stomach was a feeling he had never experienced before. His pupils dilated and his heart began to pound. That's when he came to an understanding—he had to _kill_ this person, he had to kill him before he turned and possibly infected everyone else in the zone. He looked over at the man with the scanner with his eyes widened. James then looked back down at the terrified civilian, shaking endlessly while on his knees.

"Do it!" the dark skinned one shouted.

Within that second, the infected man jumped to his feet and began to push through the circle of officers. James watched as the man ran for his life, but it all ended when a loud gunshot popped all of their ears. In that moment, the man fell to the ground as the bullet made it clean through the other side of his head. As he hit the ground, blood poured out his head, creating a dark pool around him. Overcome with dread, James began to stumble backwards, breathing heavily as if his lungs became narrow in his chest. Once the next civilian was scanned, positive for infection James turned away and closed his eyes until the final gunshot of the day echoed across the zone.


	2. Chapter 1 - Three Years Later

**SUMMER - THREE YEARS LATER**

* * *

James was placed on an assignment with a new partner. His partner's name was Sid. Sid was a heavyset, but built fella. James didn't know Sid on a personal level, but his first impressions didn't exactly shout friendly. He wasn't likable and from the looks of it, didn't care. The task of Sid and James' assignment was to find a person who was reported missing from the zone since morning. It was now sundown, and both James and Sid had to make it back before things got dangerous.

"This is a waste of our goddamn time," Sid grumbled, "We might as well just presume the guy dead and be on our merry way. Guy should've never snuck out the zone in the first place."

Sid was white, bearded, and was your typical expectation of a lumberjack within military uniform. James didn't reply, because this was the first time Sid even bothered speaking to him, and it wasn't surprising that those were the first words out of his mouth. James and Sid crossed through the back of facility that eventually led out to the yard of the building. Through the back of the tall fences was another exit outside of the zone, but it was a path only authorized for military personnel.

The Boston military was aware of numerous other secret paths within the quarantine zone, but they never bothered searching for them. If people wanted to leave the quarantine zones and risked being infected or killed, then that was up to them. Just don't come crying back once you got your sorry butt infected.

"When I see that asshole, he better pray to God he's infected," Sid commented negatively.

James gave him a dirty look,

"Look, there's no need for that," James counseled, "Let's just find the guy and bring him back home. His wife was worried sick when she reported him."

"Always trying to be the savior," Sid said with a chuckle.

Minutes later, it was finally dark out. Crickets and all sorts of creatures of the night could be heard. Both having mounted flashlights on their assault rifles, Sid spotted a trail of blood on the ground. Trying to remain as quiet as ever, Sid nudged James on the shoulder quite roughly. They were in the back lanes of an old, raggedy neighborhood. Fences were ruined and yards were overgrown with weeds. They followed the trail of blood that continued to a shut garage door. There were obvious signs of struggle and there were bloody palm marks on the garage door. Sid bent down and examined the blood,

"It's dry," Sid said.

"So that means it's been there for a while."

"Isn't that technically what I just said?" Sid replied, sounding annoyed.

He glared up at James, but James gave no response. He had no time to argue with this gigantic baby. Right now they had a man to save and James had to hope that they could get this man back to the zone safely. James bent down and grabbed the bottom of the garage door,

"On the count of three…" he paused as Sid prepped himself to lift, "One...two...three!"

Since it was already unlocked, lifting it wouldn't be a problem. The only concern was the noise it's rusted gears would make and what it would attracted. Looking down at the ground, the patches of blood got bigger. Following the trail with his flashlight, it led to an in-ground pool. With his gun armed and aimed, James shuffled to the very edge of a pool. The pool was dried up of any water, and the figure in the corner was a man who lifted his arm to block the intensity of the light beaming in his face.

"Help…" he said hoarsely.

Both Sid and James jumped down about five feet into the empty pool and examined the stranger. James, who knelt beside the stranger, spoke to him,

"Is your wife's name Rosemary?"

He nodded weakly. His chest slowly rose and fell, taking in large breaths as a need for oxygen, and his body temperature looked uneasy.

"Well, she sent us to find you. What happened to you?"

Sid stood back and watched James do what he was good at—which in his mind, was nothing. He didn't bother to engage in any part of the conversation. Instead, he bothered to contact headquarters without James' consent,

"HQ, straggler found."

"Copy. What's the straggler's status?" the woman over the walkie-talkie asked.

"I...I got attacked," the man continued responding to James. He was breathing roughly between his words, "My wife...is she okay?"

"She's fine, but I can't say the same for you," Sid interrupted, "Should've stayed your ass back in the zone."

For a proper scan on the base of his neck, Sid roughly maneuvered the man around although he was in obvious pain and corned up against the walls of the pool. James, who was concerned, grabbed Sid by the arm, signalling him to stop with his roughhousing. With a devilish glare, Sid looked over at James, who wasn't intimidated at this point.

"What the fuck are you doing?" James whispered sharply.

"What's it look like?" Sid said yanking his arm away from James' stubborn grip.

"We don't have time for this," James said, beginning to panic, "We promised his wife we'd bring him back home regardless."

Sid paused and looked a James with an unchanged expression, apparently speechless at how naive and inexperienced his partner was.

"You promised her that. Not me."

James could feel the blood in his veins boil. If he lacked any self control, he'd probably send Sid flying back on his heavy ass. He could feel his nostrils flare up and he looked down at the husband. Ignoring James' obvious anger, Sid continued to scan the civilian and got a reading within seconds. Looking down, it read "INFECTED" in large letters.

"Look at the facts, James. He's not going to make it," he rested his palm on James' shoulder, self-satisfied, "He's been infected since morning and it's already taking over."

James couldn't answer. He looked over at the victim, and he was clearly at a stage where the infection would affect his brain. He had minimal signs of twitching and heavy breathing, and the transformation was next. James knew that if they really wanted it, they'd have enough time to make it back home, but the situation was all under Sid's control at since he contacted HQ. Sid reached back for his walkie-talkie,

"Straggler scanned positive for infection at sector nineteen. I need an ETA." A pause of static occurred over the broadcast, "What's the ETA?" he asked again impatiently.

"Fifteen to twenty minutes. Proceed to eliminate target," the woman spoke back.

Sid reached into his holster and pulled out his handgun,

"Don't worry, your wife won't know a thing."

As James turned his head away and shut his eyes, Sid pulled the trigger without hesitation.

* * *

All alone in his own apartment, James decided that he would take a day off today. He was sick of the same repetitive shit. All going to work ever required was a stupid gun. He never felt comfortable doing infection checks, so he was usually at the checkpoints. There were times when the team would often go out and exterminate a few Infected, but it was sad to say that that was probably the most exciting part of his job. James just couldn't bring himself to shooting an innocent, infected human just yet.

He sat in his apartment shirtless, stretched out on the couch with his boots and uniform pants on. On the side of the sofa was his assault rifle, leaning on the arm of the couch. Just beneath his dangling arm was a bottle of cool liquor he had been drinking. Reaching down and feeling around for the bottle, he knocked it over with his thick arm,

"Shit!" James cursed.

He opened his resting eyes and laid them on the wooden floor. He could see the liquor beginning to create a puddle and he quickly reached down to sit the bottle upright. A good amount spilled out, and it irritated him even more to know that liquor wasn't something that was often rationed. Liquor in the quarantine zone was like a gift on Christmas, but if James could make up a proverb in this era, it would be 'don't cry over spilled liquor'. He was a little tipsy and hadn't eaten all day. He didn't grab his rations from yesterday, but he would be sure to get it soon. He yawned and covered his mouth, eventually sitting up and stepping over the puddle of liquor. Walking into the kitchen area, he grabbed a couple of old paper towels and quickly unraveled about ten sheets and dropped it on the spill. In the meantime, James wandered off into the bathroom, slightly off balance.

He pissed with the door wide open since he didn't have to worry about indecent exposure. His former roommate, Hadeed, ended up dying as soon as he joined the military force. He was electrocuted somehow. All anyone knew was that there was a working generator and flood of water involved. James didn't really miss him though, it meant more room for him and less trouble of getting to know someone. Hadeed was a complete asshole—super introvert and selfish. James knew a guy like him wouldn't last. How could you trust your life in someone's hand if they didn't even want to talk to you?

James walked up to the bathroom mirror and took a good look at his face, he looked the same since three years ago. Hadn't aged one bit; he had his genes to thank for that. The only change was the stubble he had growing on his face and the hair on his head. The hair was short enough to stand on it's own, but with the run of his fingers, he leaned it all to one side. It was recently cut, so it still looked satisfying to James. In the middle of examining himself, he heard a knock on the door. He groaned,

"I swear to god, if they're calling me on duty…" he muttered to himself.

Reaching into a bucket of water standing in the tub, he cuffed some water and splashed it onto his face. He heard another knock on his apartment door,

"Coming," he said, raising his voice.

He rubbed his eyes free of stress and blinked a couple of times. Turning around and exiting the bathroom, a third knock was heard.

"I said I'm coming! Damn it!"

Approaching the door, James powerfully swung it open, looking at the pale woman who use to stare at him during their first couple days here in Boston. She was in her uniform, armed with a pistol in her holster. He examined her: Her pony tail was braided and over her shoulder, light brown eyes, and narrow pink lips. James and Lauren had grown pretty close lately, and everyone else in the facility often joked about them being a couple.

"Oh, it's just you," he said, walking away from the door.

" _Just_ me?" she said with an amused scoff.

"Come in, Lauren," James said, bending over and drying up the remaining alcohol on the floor, "Close the door behind you."

Respectfully, Lauren closed the door behind her and leaned on the wall with one hand buried in her pocket. As James stood erect, he walked over to the trash bin and looked at Lauren, who smiled endlessly at him.

"So what's up?" James asked, "You off duty?"

Lauren nodded with a smile,

"Yep, they let me grab your rations for you," Lauren said, showing James two brown paper bags she had clenched in one hand. She lifted her arm and placed it on the small counter in James' kitchen.

"Thanks."

"I see Sid's got a smoldering black eye...you do that?" Lauren questioned, obviously knowing the answer.

"He's an asshole, and I'd give him another one," James said walking over to his counter.

He looked into both paper bags, seeing that there were simple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, yogurt, and other things he didn't bother to look at. One of the privileges of being in the military was getting extra food. More food was qualified to keep the strong growing stronger. After a long pause, Lauren examined the place and noticed the liquor bottle beside the sofa couch,

"Been drinking again, I see?"

James looked over at Lauren with a look self pity. Lauren walked over to him and rested her palms on his bare shoulder. Her palms were warm and surprisingly clean,

"What happened to you?"

"What do you mean what happened to me?" James responded, a little offended.

"You use to be so _different_ when we first met," she made eye contact, "What happened to you?"

James turned away and didn't answer. He pushed off the counter and grabbed a pull up bar from the corner of the room. He spoke while mounting it by the doorway to his bedroom,

"My _life_ was different before I came here, you know? My whole life I was protected by the orphanages a-and the schools," eventually, he began performing gestures with his hands while he spoke, "Then once I came here...everything else was different," he reached up and touched the pull up bar with his fingertips, "They never prepared me for this and I wasn't ready. So, to answer your question— _that's_ what made me different." He jumped up and began performing his pull ups, "I haven't killed... anyone but...I still can't get...those faces...out of my head," After finishing his first set of pull ups, he dropped down to the floor. Swinging his arms back and forth to loosen up his tense joints and muscles. He followed it by tilting his head side to side, "The kid you met three years ago was weak."

Turning around to grab his nearby bottle of water off the coffee table, he looked up at Lauren who caught his eye instantly. Lauren, at this point, removed her uniform top, revealing her spaghetti top underneath. She took out her braided ponytail and watched him seductively. James watched her bewildered, mystified on how they both got to this point. With slow steps, Lauren began to approach him. James didn't bother moving, because he was sort of stunned. He had never seen Lauren in anything other than casual clothing or uniform, so he had an idea but doubted it.

Once Lauren walked directly in front of him, she reached to his side and grabbed his palm, feeling his rough hands as a result from their hard work. As she reached upwards, she used her other hand to place it on his chest, softly touching between his muscular pectorals. She closed her eyes and as their lips touched, she savored it for a couple of moments before pulling away and looking at him. James, at this point, didn't change an expression from when he first noticed her. Again, Lauren reached in for another kiss but James pulled away.

"Lauren…" James said, looking away awkwardly. He looked back at her and saw tears begin to form in her eyes, "Look, I'm sorry, but…"

"I get it…" she said rolling her eyes in disgust. She quickly walked back to where her uniform top was and immediately placed it back on and quickly fastened the buttons, "Enjoy your lunch."

Exiting his apartment, she slammed the door behind her.

Forcibly turning his focus back to himself, he continued his exercises to take his mind of it. Dropping to the floor, he began a set of push ups.


	3. Chapter 2 - Cinema

About a week later, James was assigned to a search party. James had to stick with both Lauren and Sid. Sid still had his black eye, but the swelling was going down. James knew the punch was effective because by the looks and sounds of it, Sid kept shut whenever James was around. And if it mattered, he would often get teased by the other soldiers in the zone. Travelling by foot on cracked pavement, the team made their way to the perimeter of the building and analyzed the cars crowded and toppled up on streets. The trio, all with duffel bags, eventually made their way into a small city nearby the quarantine zone and decided to search inside of an old, moss covered theatre.

"So this is the place they want us to scavenge?" Lauren said, armed with a loaded assault rifle. She looked over at Sid and back at James, "We might as well find nothing but candy for the kids."

"Is that a bad thing?" James asked, genuinely expecting an answer.

Playfully rolling her eyes at him, Lauren ignored James and walked off. She had been giving him the silent treatment the whole walk there—sort of: Whenever James attempted to speak to Lauren, she wouldn't bother giving a reply. It was only mandatory James answered when she spoke.

"What happened between you and Miss Thang?" Sid finally said, officially setting the record on the longest he stayed quiet.

"It's nothing…" James said, casually walking past him.

"Well, I just want you to know...whatever happened between you and her," he gave a pesky little smirk, "She came to me for consoling…"

James looked over at Sid, and Sid winked with his normal eye. James wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not, but it still managed to get under his skin. James clenched his fists, and the playful smile on Sid's face immediately vanished when he looked down at James' balled up hand. Sid wasn't a bad looking guy; he was just surprised that Lauren was so desperate—of course he wouldn't tell her that out loud. James ignored the mood and continued to approach the theatre.

The entrance of the theatre was blocked by cars that apparently crashed in through the glass doors. Glass was shattered all over the black carpet. As James professionally vaulted himself over the rusty hood of a car, he heard the shards of glass crunch underneath his feet. As he pushed on towards the stalled escalators, he heard a large thud behind him. Turning around, he saw Sid on the floor.

"Fuck!" Sid cursed as he proceeded to pick himself up from the ground.

He had scrapes all over his elbows and hand after falling on the glass like a complete klutz. Sid wasn't exactly the definition of athletic, but he was strong and capable. James turned away and shook his head, trying to hold in his laughter.

"Are you alright?" James asked, looking back at Sid.

"I see you smirkin' over there, pretty boy," Sid replied.

"Pretty b-...?" James paused. To be frank he was very aware of his charming looks but he questioned Sid anyway "Why call me that?"

"You know why," Sid continued dusting himself up, making sure he got small shards of glass out of his cuts and clothes, "I'll be up, I'll check what's down here," he said, sounding annoyed and clearly embarrassed.

Looking up the escalator, it might as well be a stairway to heaven. James began to wonder how much easier everything was back then since electricity operated almost everything. After trying to keep up a certain pace, James found himself panting. Once he officially reached the top, he searched the wide area. There were vending machines that were long broken and old arcade machines. Waking up to an arcade machine, he played around with the joysticks and colorful buttons. Some were racing games, shooting games, and one game in particular that stood out from the rest—Angel Knives. He was attracted by the multiple promotional posters of beautiful people. Ironically, they all shared on thing in common and James couldn't find a movie star that looked like him. He was quite disappointed, but he shrugged it off.

"Well, the world is shit now…" he muttered to himself.

James turned around to see Lauren behind one of the counters. Casually he walked over her, hoping to make up for what happened between the two of them the other day in his apartment. As she was crouched behind the counter, he could see her tossing in a couple of unopened packages of popcorn.

"Don't we need a microwave to make those?" James asked, leaning over the counter.

"I know how to make them over a fire," Lauren replied.

"She speaks," James joked with a smile.

After Lauren was finished collecting all she could find, she walked out from behind the counter. Premeditating walking past him, James reached over and grabbed her arm, causing her to freely twist and looked at him.

"Lauren," James said, "We have to talk about it."

"Not here," she demanded.

"Then when?"

Lauren sighed and looked around for Sid. He wasn't anywhere nearby, so it gave them a little time. She placed down her duffel bag beside her and looked up at him. She could feel her face flush by the mere attraction she had towards him.

"I-I just thought you felt the same way I did about you…?" she said, stuttering.

James was sort of taken aback. He had to admit, he didn't even expect an answer like that.

"Felt the same way?" He questioned, sort of speechless.

"James…" she said. Her voiced cracked throughout his entire name. Lauren stayed silent for a moment. Her eyes were becoming watery and her nose was growing red. With a deep inhale she continued, "I love you," she blinked away the glistening in her eyes, "I've loved you since the first time I saw you…"

James was at a loss for words. He had never been told that he was loved by anyone, nor could he say he's ever had the mutual feeling. It was times like this that made it so difficult to believe love even existed, but he guessed that even the strictest jobs still required feelings. It was part of being human–denying things that came natural to people was impossible. James didn't have much time to think on what to tell her, and he wrongfully assumed that she wanted nothing more than a "no strings attached" relationship. A lot of people wanted that in an apocalypse, but even that was too much for him. Simply put, James just didn't feel the same way. He only saw Lauren as someone he cared about.

"And Sid…?" James questioned.

The flushing in Lauren's face slowly went away as she pulled herself together,

"I was hurting, okay?" She confirmed.

Just as James was probably going to shun Lauren, and save the topic for another day, they both heard a loud gunshot come from the lower levels of the movie theatre. If James only would've listened to Lauren, he could have agreed that now wasn't the right time for this. Both James and Lauren ducked to the floors. Just before following the main path to the escalators, there was a half-wall that both James and Lauren ducked behind. Sounds of another gunshot was heard and the random thud of a body. Runners were heard shouting and yelling. Sid was thought to make it out until Sid's gurgling screams were heard in sync with the Infected.

"No! no! no!" Lauren said, quickly getting to her feet and running over, looking down from the top of the escalator.

James noted Lauren's reaction, but followed afterward. Standing at the very top of the escalator, Sid was seen holding his neck as he collapsed to the ground. There were about five Runners all lurking over Sid's body. James couldn't even believe it.

"SID!" Lauren foolishly shrieked out.

Her screams echoed and all of the Runners looked up at her with their blood red, crooked eyes. With their sort of attention span, the Runners abandoned Sid's body and started dashing up the stairs. Tossing his duffel bag to the side, James pulled out his pistol from his holster and shot at one of the Runners. Shooting about two bullets, one hit a Runner in the chest, tumbling it backwards down the escalator, unto two other Runners. Two of the four Runners that weren't occupied made their way up the other escalator. The length of the escalators gave both James and Lauren enough time to flee.

* * *

James sprinted as fast as he could, his footsteps pattered on the hard textured floor. With his boots shrieking every time they slid to a stop, he quickly looked behind him to see that the coast was clear of any Runners. He and Lauren were separated at this point. Admittedly, the theatre was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked on the out. Looking back one final time, he spotted two strolling Runners before they could notice him.

"Shit…!" He cried softly to himself.

James hid off into a corner by a large entrance that led to a separate theatre room that served for screening films. The doorway was left cracked open and was jammed from closing completely. He could see spore particles drifting just outside of the opening. Reaching behind his back, he yanked his gas mask from his waistband and put it on. However, the door made a loud noise as he entered and, without a doubt, alarmed the other Runners. The door fell back shut, but only to the way it was before. Listening closely with his palms rested on the door, he hid behind it and crouched down while peeking through the small opening. He counted as the Runners dashed past,

"One…" he mouthed through a shaky breath, "Two…"

There were five altogether from the first time James counted, including the one he shot. This meant the remaining three could've been anywhere else. As the screams of the Runners' faded, he turned to face the room he was hidden in. It was nothing but pitch darkness with hints of greenish-yellow spores that flew into the lenses of his gas mask. Grabbing the sling of his assault rifle, he equipped himself with it and turned on the flashlight mounted onto it. He pointed his light along the walkway and cautiously made his way through. Fully making it past the walkway and into the opening of the room, he heard a quick noise on his right. The room was big and could probably seat over seventy people. Quickly following the sound along the steps that led to the far end of the room, he spotted a corpse. Letting down his guard with a soft exhale. He looked around once again, seeing about two, very small, caved in areas from the ceiling above them. The room was large, so it didn't give as much light as he wanted, but right underneath one of the small rays of sunlight was another corpse of an Infected. It was the reason why the place was so swarmed with spores. A person without a gas mask would suffocate alone before getting Infected. He traveled closely to the body and noticed the fungus taking over the corpse since he had never seen something like this in person. He didn't know if it was psychotic of him, but he thought it was the most beautiful he had seen in a long time, especially from an Infected. In the midst of his daydream, his walkie talkie began giving static feedback, he listened closely.

"J...mes...you...ere?" Lauren's voice said.

James quickly held his radio attached near the collar of his uniform,

"Lauren? Lauren, where are you?" James replied. His heavy breathing resumed, "I'm in a theatre room."

"Which one?"

As James was getting ready to reply. James heard a shuffling behind him. He turned his head to the darkness and couldn't see a thing.

"James?" Lauren called out, "James, where are y-"

She called out a third time, but James powered off the radio, mid-sentence, by twisting the knob. Listening closely, he heard nothing. Reaching down to his side, he grabbed hold of his assault rifle and looked to the sides–clear. Making an about face, he brought up the flashlight and started screaming at the sight of a Stalker as it lunged at him. It shouted and screamed and tried to claw itself through James' bullet proof vest. Thankfully, his gear and padding was enough to protect him. Using all of his upper body strength, he powerfully pushed the Stalker off of him. The Stalker fell back and both James and the Stalker jumped to their feet. The Stalker powerfully pushed James back until he was pressed up against a wall but James used his quick wits and training to get out of its hold. With four powerful blows from his fists, the Stalker fell back, dazed and stunned by the punches. Delivering a final hook, blood gushed out of the mouth of the Stalker's. It fell to the ground and before it could stand back up, James delivered a heavy kick that might as well have been a stomp. The neck was snapped back from force and the Stalker was immediately killed. James was quick to recover and turn back on his radio and try to communicate with Lauren,

"Lauren…?" James waited while before he called again, "Lauren, please answer me."

After a long moment of waiting, James went to the exit of the theater room. He looked through the same space and listened closely. There was no Infected nearby but James heard nearby gunshots. Multiple ones.

"Shit!"

James cautiously exited the theatre room and ran in the direction he heard more gunshots coming from. Running in the women's restroom, he spotted Lauren who was sweating bullets. As a natural reaction from fear, she pointed her pistol at James. James, who was afraid of being shot, threw up his hands.

"It me!" He shouted "It's me!"

Lauren, who was a bit shaken up, dropped her pistol. She was surrounded by five corpses of Runners and Clickers. Tears finally seeped through her eyes as she closed them. She quickly walked up to James and hugged him tightly, sobbing hysterically. James never saw Lauren crack; she had been in situations like this before, so it was difficult for him to understand. He hugged her back, instantly holding her tighter.

James and Lauren were able to find an emergency exit without having to pass through the entrance in which they first came. Once they made their way down a bunch of staircases, they made it outside. James pulled off his gas mask and took a long inhale–fresh air, the most treasured thing in today's era. Slightly bent, hands on knees, he looked over at Lauren who was still sniffling and didn't even seem affected by safely making it out. James stood erect and walked closer to her, resting his hand on her shoulder,

"Look...what happened to Sid…" James paused, "I'm sorry."

Lauren looked up at James in disbelief and later looked away. Reaching up, she shoved his arm off her shoulder. James watched her in bewilderment.

"Sid?" she questioned, "It...it isn't because of Sid."

Lauren reached up and rested the sleeve of her shirt against her runny nose. She looked at James, who she could tell was very lost by her reaction. Reaching down, Lauren prepared to lift her shirt. James took a couple of steps forward and caught her arm, looking into her eyes with sadness,

"Just stop, Lauren-"

"Wait, I have…"

James spoke over her,

"We spoke about thi-"

"JUST LET ME SHOW YOU!" She shouted over him.

James looked at her startled. This was about the fourth time today her skin turned raging red. Pulling his arm away, James looked down at her waist with suspicion, now aware that something else was at hand instead of her obstacle with love. Slowly she pulled up the side of her shirt from being tucked. As she showed signs of wincing, the fear in James face grew wider. She was hurt, and he prayed it wasn't what he expected. Lauren revealed her hip and showed a fresh bite with blood seeping out of the open wound. James looked away, heartbroken that his closest comrade and only friend was Infected. He lifted his hand to his face and placed pressure with each finger on each closed eye. His lips began to tremble and he began to whimper, falsely wanting to believe this wasn't the end. Lauren placed down her shirt and watched his reaction. She shook her head,

"I didn't want this to happen…" She said.

James was trying to recollect himself at this point. He took off his cap and tried wiping his eyes free of tears, but they wouldn't stop. Lauren cautiously approached him.

"James," she gave a hard sniff, "I need you to do it."

She reached down and grabbed the pistol from James' holster. He went pale once he noticed and he could feel his bones tremble to the core. With the handgun in her grip, she offered him the handle,

"You always wanted to know how those shootings helped, right?" She opened her mouth briefly and closed it again. Tears began to build up and it rolled down her cheeks, "It was preparing you for this…"

"NO! No…" James cried out, "I can't-"

"Please!" She whispered sharply, "James I cannot turn. I don't want to know what that's like!"

Her sobs turned heavy as those last words escaped her mouth. Calming down, she brought her lips inward, stifling the rest of her weeps. She went on her knees, practically begging. James looked down at her and reluctantly decided to grab the pistol. With her reddened, brown eyes she looked into his and took a deep breath.


	4. Chapter 3 - Newcomer

James hadn't slept in days since his predicament at the cinema. He still couldn't believe that Lauren, his closest companions in the zone, was gone. He wasn't close to Sid, but he wouldn't put it past him that he and Sid could have become good buddies at some point. If anything, their last time at the cinema had to be the least hostile they had ever been around one another.

James was drinking again. He happened to snag some liquor from one of the soldiers in the building–the building James stayed in was basically a large barrack for other soldiers. James sat back on his sofa, dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and his uniform pants. With his legs propped up onto his wooden coffee table, he got a knock on his door.

"Fuuck…" he groaned, craning his head backwards in stress. It seemed like every time James wanted to drink, someone would come a'knocking at his front door, "I'ma comin'…"

He reached up and rubbed his eyes, attempting to rub them free of any sign of influence. He straightened back his posture and looked over at the door from where he sat. His vision was unfocused and it a look a while before he could even process which body part to move. Slowly taking each leg off the table, he loudly stomped as he placed his boots to the floor. Using his arms to guide him from his seat, he carefully took each step until he reached the door.

"Wha-who izet?" James said loudly.

"It's McHale. Open up," A voice responded from the other side.

James didn't know a McHale, but the name rang a bell. He unlocked the knob and swung open the door, drunkenly stumbling backwards. Regaining balance to his stance, James looked up at McHale. McHale was a much taller man with olive skin and dark features such as hair and eyes. His jawline was sturdy and have a physique equivalent to James. However, James bet to himself that he could do twice the amount of reps than McHale could. James had definitely seen McHale around. He had heard McHale's name in other people's mouth every now and then. McHale was known for being hard on civilians, bossing around other soldiers, and possibly sleeping around with all the other women. Despite being a normal ranked soldier like the rest of them, McHale sure acted like he was in charge, and it wasn't hard to tell that McHale was judging James from the sight of him. He placed his hands in his pockets and looked over at James' kitchen counter and saw a liquor bottle with golden colored whiskey. With the slight raise of an eyebrow, McHale looked down at the ground, chuckling to himself,

"Drunk, I see?" McHale said, stepping into James apartment without permission.

"What?" James said, sounding confused. He looked back at the bottle on his counter and continued to nod his head in agreement "Oh, y-y-yeah."

"You gonna share some?" McHale joked.

It took James a moment to realize what was actually happening. Frankly, James was surprised that McHale, the guy who was so notorious, was offering to spend time with him over some liquor. Personally, he wasn't in the mood after what had happened, but he couldn't let McHale know that.

"I didn't think you'd want a drink," James chuckled, getting himself together from the drunkenness.

McHale smiled at James and firmly rested his hand on his broad shoulder. Giving direct eye contact, James smiled, revealing all of his perfectly aligned pearls.

"Of course I'd want some," he paused, "It was mine."

The half drunk smile that appeared on James' face disappeared in seconds. With one hand still rested on his shoulder, McHale quickly jabbed James in the stomach with the other and brought back his other fist and gave James a heavy hook to the face. James, flew to the side and was thrown into his counter, breaking down his wooden chairs. Using his built arms to protect his face, James coughed in pain. The rough commotion shook the counter and caused the bottle to fall over and shatter unto the floorboards. James groaned as he struggled to stand up and braced himself by getting into a fighting stance and placing up his fists. Giving a slow, disoriented swing, McHale easily dodged it and punched James so hard that his whole body turned to face the other way. Before he got the chance to recover from the pain, McHale gave a heavy kick to James' calf, sending him into a world of pain. James shouted and knelt to one knee. McHale quickly grabbed James' arms from behind and placed him into a painful joint lock. James shouted in pain through clenched eyes and teeth. McHale, from behind, could be heard cocking back his handgun, pressing the barrel against James' scalp,

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow a hole from the back of head to your shitty face," he spat hostilely.

The initial act McHale had put on completely disappeared, and he was back to being the notorious soldier everyone knew him as. He was bullying around another soldier—a drunk one for that matter.

"You're lucky I ca-AGH!" As James opened his mouth, McHale pulled his arm into an even tighter lock.

"Any tighter and I'll break your shootin' arm…" McHale spat. The fetish for pain was as clear as a sadist's, "Now, I said...give me a reason."

"Because it's stupid booze," an eerily calm voice said from the entrance.

McHale looked back to see another soldier. He was of thin lean build and a lot younger than the average soldier. He had darker skin—brown pigmented; thick, short curls of hair on top of his head, with the sides and back faded from a shave. He stood at the doorway with his arms crossed and in uniform like the rest.

"Caleb…" McHale greeted with a forced smiled. It was obvious that he was sweating bullets from the ruckus earlier, but it was all now from nervous laughter, mostly embarrassment, "Just in time for the party…"

Caleb was a newly recruited loner. He was the prime example of a young adult of this generation. He was aloof and often kept himself, isolated from the other soldiers. He didn't seem bothered by _any_ of the people in the zone, including McHale. Others thought they could push him around, but they were reluctant to try it. Seeing that they could never even get him to crack a smile or get any type of response was very discouraging.

"What are you doing?" Caleb asked, sounding quite irritated, "Let him go."

"This _fucker_ stole my booze," McHale looked at the back of James' head and cocked his pistol once again. He returned his look at Caleb, "It's the way we do things around here, newbie."

"That's quite a power trip. You wouldn't want the Fireflies to be right about you, would you?" Caleb asked. He blinked in annoyance and brought his eyelids lower from the aggressive squint of his hazel eyes. From behind his back, he revealed a fresh, unopened bottle of clear liquor, "The base let me have an extra one because I told them _McHale's_ own was stolen," he said, putting emphasis on the name.

The reason behind that was because McHale didn't realize his reputation, and he was stupid for it. He was so praised by his own colleagues that he could get away with murder. McHale instantly looked back at James and released him. James fell forward, groaning in pain and clenched his shoulder. He sat up and looked at McHale and Caleb exchange a couple of words. Once the bottle was passed over to McHale, he looked over at James and gave him a look of revulsion. McHale exited James' apartment and vanished from the doorway. Caleb continued to stand by the entrance with his hands in his pockets and watched James slowly recover from the pain by resting against the wall. James' drunk vision didn't' allow him to see Caleb clearly from afar,

"I owe you..." James said with breathlessness.

"Whatever. Just don't go around stealing people's liquor," Caleb spoke, having such a dry expression, "I won't be around with a bottle next time someone wants to blow your head off…"

James reached up and wiped his forehead free of sweat. After a moment of quietness, besides James' heavy breathing, Caleb opened his mouth,

"So you're just gonna sit there?"

"I'll sober up…" James replied.

Reaching in to grab James' door knob, Caleb pulled the door shut behind him.

* * *

Since James' last encounter with McHale, he never forgot Caleb or had the time to thank him. Not only did he not get a clear look of Caleb's appearance, but Caleb was rarely around the zone. Whenever James would ask around for his whereabouts, no one knew a thing. He got word that no matter what time of the day is was, Caleb was rarely on duty within the zone. He constantly went on runs on his own and not one person bothered to accompany him or question it. James figured that the kid was a complete weirdo, and that he would do just as everyone else—ignore it.

Later that night, James had a plan and volunteered to take night watch with another soldier. James stood at the checkpoint, armed with a loaded assault rifle while he and the other soldiers held quiet conversations with one another. James didn't speak much. Altogether, James was just in a miserable mood and he began to notice that it was a recurring feeling ever since he entered the zone, even more so after Lauren died.

"Get the fuck inside _now_ ," James shouted to a nearby civilian who happened to walk outside their apartment just to throw away some trash.

James looked down at his wristwatch, and it was thirty minutes past curfew. Whomever he just spoke to was actually lucky because it was protocol to apprehend any civilian outside past curfew, even if it were just outside their building.

"Incoming," said a soldier overlooking the checkpoint.

Controlling a large spotlight from up above, the same soldier flashed the light on the figure approaching the fence. Just as James hoped for, it was Caleb—but James didn't know that. He could barely remember his face. The shine illuminated his body as his shadow was sharply cast from beneath his feet. He had a duffel bag over his shoulder, quite packed. The right side of his face was covered in bright red patches of blood.

"Are you bleeding?" A soldier on James' side called out.

Caleb shook his head,

"Not mine."

"And how do we know that?" James intrusively asked.

"Why do you have scanners?" He responded.

"Watch your fucking mouth..." James replied, obviously feeling humiliated.

The other soldiers cackled with one another, clearly being tipsy while armed on duty. Caleb didn't even bother making eye contact with either of them. He was eventually welcomed back into the zone after having the gall to stand his own ground like that. James volunteered to scan him, and once Caleb was clarified as infection-free, he was free to walk. They briefly made eye contact, but Caleb didn't bat an eye. Whenever James would speak with Caleb, he would either nod, shake his head, or give a simple one-worded reply. James, at this point, found it blatantly disrespectful. Compared to James' build, he figured he could easily overpower a cocky brat. If McHale, Sid, and other soldiers could go around authorizing others, then why couldn't James? James followed Caleb a couple of feet away from the checkpoint and spoke,

"Stop," James ordered.

Caleb stopped in his tracks and gave an exhale of displeasure.

"You forgot to show ID," James asserted.

James would eventually check the ID and the bag since it was too packed to go unnoticed. Caleb faced James and reached deep into his pocket, pulling out his ID card. Barely reaching up to pass on the ID, James reached down to retrieve it from the pestered soldier. Flipping the ID over to the proper side, James clicked on his flashlight to read the information. That's when he finally realized who the soldier was. Keeping his head faced downward, he turned his eyes up at Caleb, who was inattentive at that moment. The funny thing about it was that James still couldn't get a clear view of Caleb's face since it was dark out.

Flashing off his light, James gulped and eased his posture. He looked directly at Caleb and Caleb watched back. Holding the ID between both his index and middle finger, he offered the card back to Caleb. Caleb reached up, quickly snatched his ID, and placed it back into his pocket. After a moment of silence, Caleb took this awkward moment as his cue to walk off. However, using a rather calmer tone this time, James followed and decided to speak to him,

"Uh, remember me?" James asked, embarrassed.

"How could I forget?" Caleb replied.

A smirk appeared on James' face, thinking it was just innocent humor until he looked up and didn't see any sign of laughter on Caleb's face. He had a very intimidating demeanor about him that could probably set an enemy running. However, Caleb could notice James with his peripheral vision, and that's when he was finally forced to look over at him,

"What do you want?" Caleb groaned in annoyance as he stopped walking.

James' smirk vanished and he realized that he might as well give his sincerest apologies and gratitude from last time. Afterward, they would just go about each of their business. It was evident that this guy wanted nothing to do with James—he wanted nothing to do with anyone. Period. He finally understood why people didn't bother with him. He started off by stammering in the process, mostly caused by the deadpan look Caleb gave off.

"I-I just wanted to properly tell you thanks…" James then paused, waiting for a reply.

Frankly, Caleb felt that he deserved an apology as well for getting pulled into that scuffle in the first place. He just watched James in silence as the flickering of a burning barrel could be heard a couple of feet away from them. The orange light, given off bye the flames, subtly radiated their sides, which only made the atmosphere more bleak.

"...About the other day?" James continued. His demeanor had fell back to the mind he had as a teen in military school, "I already apologized to McHale…"

"Hm," Caleb finally replied, "Does he still hate you?"

"Yep."

Caleb gave a nod of approval before speaking again and he proceeded to turn away,

"Just remember there won't be a next time."

James narrowed his eyes and watched his silhouette vanish into the darkness cast by the tall buildings in the zone. As James turned to walk back to the checkpoint, he quickly turned back around, remembering that he had to check Caleb's possessions. Opening his mouth, Caleb was nowhere in sight. He gave a soft exhale, coming to a realization that others already had—Caleb was a very strange newbie.


	5. Chapter 4 - Caleb

James tightly clasped unto his handgun in one hand, nearly resting it to Caleb's forehead. Caleb sat with his back pressed against a wall of chipped wallpaper, finally caught feeling slightly threatened for the first time. He breathed heavily, face covered in a thin layer of sweat. He could feel his pores open up as the situation got more intense every minute. He glared up at the pistol, looking directly inside of the dark barrel. It was completely up to James whether or not he wanted to end Caleb's life in an instant flash.

Want to know how they got to this point? Tread on.

* * *

James was in his apartment, getting prepared to be on duty. Per usual, he walked around his apartment, shirtless, having much pride in his physical appearance. Shame no one was around to appreciate it with him, he usually thought. There was nothing wrong with a little confidence. Grabbing his uniform shirt nearby, he sniffed the underarm area. It may seem strange, but he could assure that he wasn't the only guy who did it. Sniffing it a couple more times to make sure he didn't get any strange odor, he was assured that there was no foul stench. He placed on his shirt and buttoned it up perfectly, pressing out the wrinkles with his hands. As he placed on his cap and finally grabbed his weapons, he was surprised by a sudden explosion outside of the apartment. The tremor from the explosion was so powerful that James fell to his knees. As constant gunfire could be heard all over the zone, James peeked over his window sill. Immediately, the sirens rang loudly throughout the area.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" one of the guards shouted repeatedly.

Looking elsewhere, James saw constant civilians trying to outrun bullets and spotted numerous strangers, presumably bandits, entering the zone. James cautiously stayed crouched down and completely placed his face to the floor once two bullets managed to fly through his apartment window. Quickly shuffling across the floor, James made it safely away from the windows. Hastily making it to his feet, James ran to his door after hearing the constant commotion outside in the corridors. Multiple other soldiers were running out their apartments, all locked and loaded.

"GO! GO!" A soldier shouted, running past James' doorway. Another soldier immediately followed right after.

Following his fellow comrades, James ran out of his apartment and ran down the steps until he made it to the main floor. Cautiously hiding near the exit of the building, he peeked through to the outside. It was practically a war zone. The fact that there was already so little soldiers in this particular zone was endangering to everyone there, including him. Looking out, James noticed three unidentified bodies of soldiers so far—all faces he recognized but didn't know personally. Switching his gaze back to the entrance, another explosion occurred, causing James to duck to the ground. His mind was in a state of panic. He didn't know what to do. His ears were ringing from the screams, gunshots, and explosions. A couple of smoke bombs were thrown into the base, and James planned on taking the opportunity to run out of the building and hide elsewhere. Detonating three seconds after being thrown, the explosives formed a cloud of smoke. James sprinted out of the barracks and hid for cover elsewhere so he wouldn't be seen by the invading enemies making their ways through the clouds of thick smoke. James made his way behind a large trash bin, large enough to conceal himself behind. Taking cover while aiming, James shot at the enemies coming in through the checkpoint. His assault rifle fired rapidly, instantly taking down three intruders. Reloading his assault rifle, James was caught by surprise when one of the enemies caught him off guard. The enemy was a woman, and she had a dirty pistol pointed towards his face.

James felt a shudder in his spine and began to lift his twitchy hands to a surrender. From the look of James' surroundings, which were nothing but the dead bodies of soldiers and enemies, James was prepared to die and join the pile. Closing his eyes, he clenched them even tighter at the sound of a gunshot. Hearing a heavy thud, James peeked through one eye, spotting his assailant on the ground. Cautiously scanning around the zone, James couldn't catch who saved his life. From the sounds of the crossfire coming in from his side, he could tell that not all of the soldiers in the area were dead.

Checking back at the body beside him, James searched the body for anything important. Taking the remaining ammo from her pistol, something else caught his eye—something around her neck that looked like a pendant with an insignia that could _never_ go unnoticed. Taken aback, James reached down to yank the pendant from her neck possibly for proof or memorabilia. Closely inspecting it, he turned it over and noticed the engraving of letters that spelled out the name, 'Casey Ramsey'.

Without even realizing it, the sounds of the gunshots began to die out, meaning that one side was either losing the battle or losing bullets—but James didn't know which one. Peeking over his hiding spot, two more smoke bombs were thrown into the zone. Exploding, a large cloud of thick smoke covered the area once again and trailed off to one of the buildings. Peeking closely, James could see two blurry figures making it through the smoke and into the apartment building that served as his barracks. The apartment was too far off for James to get a clear aim at the targets. James stayed planted in his spot until he was positive that it was safe for him to get a move on. James vowed he wouldn't go down without a fight, and he definitely he wouldn't let some Fireflies get away with raiding his barracks. There was only two and James was confident he could take them on. If he was killed, at least he'd would die fighting. Hopefully.

Sweating bullets and feeling his heart pound through his rib cage, James got up and went inside the barracks without any hesitation. Fanning his way into the entrance, he stopped before walking into the open corridor. Using the walls for cover, he listened closely, hearing shuffling footsteps all the way from the other end of the hallway. That's when he was startled by a random woman and child running out from the corridor. They both safely made it out of the corridor and ran past James.

However, that didn't stop the shuffling noises. He heard cringe-worthy noises, something that sounded like heavy furniture being dragged against wooden floors. There was heavy breathing and grunts being heard, both males. A voice could be heard, saying things like, "hurry up" and "they're coming". James was stressed and his nerves were going haywire. He had his attention pinned everywhere from the entrance, to the stairs, to the the source of voices at the end of the hallway. James could feel like he were at breaking point. He was breathing and his vision was becoming warped, all due to the decision he was about to make. Shaking his head free of the headache he was giving himself, he moped his face with his palm. He could feel a knot in his throat and a heavy pressure in his gut. He could feel his sweat dripping from the small strands of his hair sticking out from underneath his cap. Jumping out from the corner with his pistol pointed, James carefully approached the end of the hallway as any soldier would, slowly taking step after step. The very last door at the end of the corridor was opened, but there was no sign of anyone suspicious as he checked inside from a safe angle. Fully entering the room, James was shocked to see the room empty. Still armed, James checked the only separate rooms in the apartment—being the bathroom and bedroom. Not one person was still in sight. That's when James thought back on what he heard before he entered the room. Looking around, he saw a burgundy colored sofa in the middle of the room. Looking down at the floorboards, James saw markings that led straight to the legs of the sofa; this meant that the sofa was being slid back and forth constantly.

Carefully trying not to alarm the intruders in case they were nearby, James pushed the sofa couch back by carefully tilting it backwards on its two back legs. As he pushed it back even further, James missed his footing. His foot slid into an open space in the floorboards beneath him. Carefully, he regained his stance and continued to move the sofa out of the way until the hole in the floor was completely revealed. Dropping to his knees, James bent down to dip his head through the hole. Underground tunnels in quarantine zones weren't unheard of, but the fact that Fireflies knew about it threw him off. Using the flashlight linked to his uniform, James jumped down the hole and flashed the light around. Looking at the ground, he spotted the notable footsteps of the two Fireflies earlier. James reached for his pistol and followed a narrow trail until he realized that he didn't need the power of his flashlight anymore due to the few lanterns lined up along the walls of the tunnel.

The loud noise of an operating generator was being heard. James couldn't be more thankful because it covered up the noises of his footsteps. If he was lucky, the Fireflies wouldn't be headed in his direction, or else he wouldn't hear them either. Turning a corner, James walked right into another path, much larger and wider than the one he just came from. The area wasn't entirely dark and there were glimpses of light shining in from the cracks up above. The colors of the entire interior was dim, like a deep green sea. Visualizing the area, James could tell he walked right into another building. The moss that covered practically everywhere within the area acted as a filter for the interior, giving a salt water illusion.

Caught by surprise, James jumped back into the corner as he nearly walked into the open view of the two Fireflies a couple yards away. Staying hidden, James quietly crouched to the ground and slightly stuck his head out from around the corner. He saw the two figures in the distance—one being tall and slim, the other was about the same size, more average looking, and a lot taller. The slim guy appeared weaponless and had a long and thin cased strapped diagonally along his back. James just couldn't tell what it was. The other guy was hooded, and clearly had a gun strapped to a holster—a visible metallic surface from where James was.

"Where to?" One Firefly spoke to the other.

"I think it's over there?" The other voice replied.

It sounded quite young and its familiarity caught James by surprise. It rang such a bell that it angered him when he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"You _think_?" The other guy replied, clearly sounding agitated. He began to react nervously and briefly pace back and forth, "Look man!" his voice hit a high note, "The plan went to _shit_ , okay? If we don't get out of here, we're going to have soldiers breathing—no! Fucking shooting _... Shooting_ down our backs!"

"I know you're scared, Zed, but you need to calm down…" the second voice therapeutically spoke, sounding unnerved.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Caleb!"

"Zed, _lower_ your voice!" the whisperer replied sharply.

Immediately, James got flashbacks of Caleb. Still, he had an unclear view of his face, but the voice, without question, belonged to him. Taking out his most threatening gun, James armed himself with his assault rifle and stood up. Coming out from cover, James made himself visible by carefully walking towards the duo. Going unnoticed until he made it a couple of feet closer, he stepped into a puddle of water. Zed noticed him and pointed over Caleb's shoulder as his lips quivered. Alarmed, Caleb turned around as if he were ready to brawl. Zed as well, placed his hand on his gun, but James had his barrel pointed right at them.

"Don't move!" James shouted. His skin glistened due to his oily skin, "Don't fucking move!"

James gave Caleb a look of disbelief,

"You're a Firefly?" James questioned, his face looking perplexed.

Caleb didn't bother answering. If James didn't know any better, he could have actually spotted a little shame in Caleb's face. He couldn't even make eye contact at this point. He hoped that Caleb wasn't a traitor and that he was somehow brought into this. The list of possibilities from threats to bribery raced through James' head. He sort of owed this guy his life, but he had to make up for it some other way rather than letting him get away with having a bunch of people slaughtered in the zone.

"Where are we?" James questioned, gun still drawn "A couple of miles out from the base?"

Zed, the accompanying Firefly, nodded. He nodded his head as if he were having a seizure, but it was all a sign of anxiety. His heavy breathing could be heard in all the silence. Caleb, through it all, remained neutral.

James circled the two of them and pointed his aim directly at the each of them at a time. Demanding to walk with their hands in the air, they respectfully complied. However, being under pressure, Zed made a stupid action. Quickly reaching for the gun in his holster, Zed turned around and aimed it at James. James was well aware of the chance he had to shoot, but didn't take it. He still didn't have the guts to take a person down unless he really felt in danger—like now, when it'd be too late.

Caleb turned as well, but stood with his hands up in the air. He backed away, not wanting to be in the middle of the crossfire. Finally, signs of tension was appearing on his face,

"Zed…" Caleb said lowly.

"We can't go back there…" Zed whispered, speaking to the both of them. He gave James a look of pity and opened his mouth again, "I'm sorry…"

Once Zed pulled the trigger, nothing happened. His gun made a lifeless click, and by the look on Zed's face, he could already tell he was fucked. Leaping forward, Zed broke into a full on fight with James, fighting for the assault rifle. Easily overpowering Zed, James was able to grab back his rifle and quickly remove the sling from around his body. Using the back of the rifle, James used it as a blunt weapon and struck Zed in the face. Now with a bloody nose and droopy face, Zed weakly fell to the floor unconscious. As the fight quickly ended, James looked up to see that Caleb was no longer standing there. Looking around, James turned to see Caleb sprinting off into the darkness.

"HEY!" James called out, "Shit…" he swore, beginning to run after him.

Caleb was a quick Runner, and was nearly beaming out of sight as he jumped over collapsed walls bordering other buildings, and quickly cutting corners. James felt that it was against every fiber in his being to let Caleb get away until he got some answers and was brought to justice. Moments before cutting a corner just as Caleb did, a Runner emerged right out of a sealed door.

"WHAT THE…!" James yelled.

Quickly making an about face, instead of running back the way he came, he ran up a staircase that wasn't too far to his right. Turning as he ran, he could see the wild Runner attempt to chase after him, running into walls and eventually making its way to the stairs, it followed James' trail as he made his way to the upper level. There were about three doors in sight, running to one door furthest from the top of staircase, he opened the door, being led into an empty room with nothing but stacked boxes and a corpse half eaten by maggots. Slamming the door shut, James turned to escape elsewhere. Taking a step forward, James spotted the Runner making it up the final step and dashing towards him like a rabid animal. With blood stained teeth and thick dribble escaping it's mouth, it came face to face with James and grabbed him, pulling him closer with all it's might to get a good chomp of his face. Pressed up against the door he previously closed, James could see Caleb behind the Runner, emerging from one of the other two doorways.

After seeing James being occupied with the Runner, Caleb fell stunned—mostly by the Runner. He took the chance to run the opposite way, taking the doorway furthest to the other end. It was busted open, and just as Caleb made it through, he was also attacked by a Runner. Easily, he was tossed to the floor, and revealed the encased tool on his back to be a katana. While on the floor, he quickly extended his blade upward, allowing the Runner to madly impale itself through the stomach while blindly trying to attack Caleb. With the weight of the Runner causing it to slide further down the blade, it coughed up blood through its gurgled screams. Safely turning his face away so no bodily fluids would get into his mouth, the blood splattered onto the side of Caleb's face. Slowly, the Runner lost its life and finally died on the very top of Caleb. Exhausted from all the previous running, the Runner was already difficult to push off.

James managed to use his strength to break free from the Runner's hold and powerfully kicked it to the point where he could feel and hear its ribs break on impact. Screaming and shouting in even more pain, the Runner was just overwhelmed with the natural order to spread its virus. Crouching down, James managed to grab the Runner by the legs and toss it over the balcony that overlooked the bottom level they were previously on. The Runner shouted and kicked as it fell down, and with a violent "crack" it instantly stopped shouting. Looking down, a pool of blood was seen sweeping out from underneath its body. Breathing heavily, James hunched up his back.

Caleb was disturbed by witnessing James' bone crushing ability, and resumed to wiggle free once their eyes met. Entering the room Caleb was in, Caleb had finally pushed the heavy body off of him after using a great amount of effort. Quickly reaching for the sword, which was secured deeply within the corpse, Caleb only got as much as resting his palm on the handle of his katana. He stopped moving with the click of James' firearm from behind—he froze. Placing his arms up, he glared at James who slowly walked closer to him, forcing Caleb to crawl back into a wall in the process. Being a slight distance from his sword gave him a disadvantage.

Turning his head, James looked around the area to see if there were any signs of Infected. James' hand slightly trembled, constantly being on edge on whether or not they were alone.

"If you do as much as move a muscle, I'm ending you…" James said, "Now tell me. What were you doing with those Fireflies?"


	6. Chapter 5 - Walk the Line

Caleb slowly rose to his feet. His all black attire was covered in patches of dust, including his thick locks of hair. Bringing down the sleeve of his thin black shirt, he wiped the blood off the side of his face, eventually smearing most of it to some degree. Glancing up at James, they made direct eye contact, and it was the first time James had gotten a clear view of his face. Weaponless and cuffed, Caleb kept his arms behind his back (as if he had a choice) and walked towards the doorway that would be their exit to the outside.

"Open the door," James demanded, not taking his eyes off of Caleb's back.

"I'm cuffed."

"Turn the fuck around."

Turning around, Caleb began to have a stare off with James. It was impossible to intimidate James at this point. Not only did he have adrenaline still pumping, but Caleb had no power over him. With his back still facing the door, Caleb turned his head over, and managed to place both palms around the doorknob. With soft grunts, he tried opening the door. Caleb had minor scratches on his lower back, but he was the type to make it evident.

"Open. It," James spat through his teeth. He was clearly annoyed by the stalling.

"I'm trying!" Caleb said.

Finally pulling open the door, Caleb turned and stared at the outside, turning his head back at the Runner on the floor. Following his every move, James couldn't believe that they were still in this room as if he didn't make himself clear enough.

"What, you want to stay here with that? Because I'll make sure you stay down here and never see daylight or food again," James said, referring to the Runner. He pressed his pistol to the base of Caleb's head, " _Move_."

Caleb exhaled softly and briefly closed his eyes, afraid of making the wrong move that would possibly end him up like Zed.

"Don't leave my sword…" Caleb said, facing forward but looking down to the side, "You can have it...just don't leave it here," he said, sounding like a desperate plea.

It was a strange request, but James did himself the favor in deciding to take it as his own. Claiming it was somehow beneficial in terms of memorabilia. First he gained a pendant to remember the victory of taking down some Fireflies, and he had the sword to remember the traitor he caught. Carefully, James temporarily removed the cuffs and removed Caleb's case for his sword. To him, the boy was weaponless and would, without a doubt, lose a fight. Keeping his eyes on Caleb at all costs, he yanked the sword from the Runner's gut. He cleansed the sword's blade with a white cloth that was found resting on the top of a nearby blood-stained washing machine in the room—James now possessed the sheathed blade, carrying it along his own back like Caleb did. Since then, Caleb's entire demeanor changed as if it was torn from a trusted accomplice. James, ignored it and the duo eventually made their way out of the small laundry room. James took in a long breath of air as did Caleb.

They were now walking through a tight passageway, guarded by tall fences along the walls of the buildings surrounding the thin area. They were far from the ambushed district, but they weren't completely cut off from the safe parts of the zone. This area, however, wasn't usually being patrolled. The walls were heavily marked in large white markings of graffiti, balls of trash rolled along the streets, and there were vegetation growing out of notable places.

Visualizing the area to see if he could at least pinpoint their location, James traveled around the building and out into the opening of a thin street barricaded by more buildings. Notably, a long, thick, dark cloud of smoke caught Caleb and James' attention directly out in front of them.

"That's all your doing," James said coldly.

When James could see that Caleb didn't even seem to be fazed by the entire situation, it angered him. The clenching of his teeth caused his jawline to flex. Roughly, James clenched Caleb's shirt, slightly tearing it below his collarbone and painfully pressed him up against a brick wall. With his eyes tightened in pain, Caleb looked at James with a look that showed he wasn't threatened by his temper. Besides, with his arms tied back, he didn't have much of a choice but to be submissive. Caleb thought he could take James on if given the chance; James was just lucky. Hidden by tall, steel fences a couple of yards away, a few of assault vehicles began to race their way down a path James and Caleb were separated from. Turning his attention back to Caleb, he released him. Caleb fell to his knees, unable to properly balance himself with his arms behind his back. He made it to his feet, and something inside of James made him like seeing the boy at his weakest. James spoke,

"You'll get your chance to explain."

Grabbing hold of his wrist, James dragged Caleb along and pushed him out in front of him.

"Wh-" he grunted from the tug, "What are they going to do to me?" Caleb asked breathlessly, genuinely curious.

"You know what they do to soldiers who commit treason..." James replied.

It was almost as if there was hidden scoff in James' voice. However, James was right. Historically, a soldier who committed treason was arrested just like anyone else. But in a world where there was barely any law left, imprisonment wasn't an option. Caleb was left with one option and one option only—execution.

* * *

About thirty minutes later, James was able to travel to another checkpoint at the border of the quarantine zone. This district was particularly larger, and had much sturdier walls. From the looks of things here, they were attacked as well, but the place was still heavily guarded by numerous soldiers. At the checkpoint, the gates opened, and an assault vehicle came speeding out. At the fences of the checkpoints, James was already receiving strange looks from the four soldiers guarding the outside. As James and Caleb walked closer, the guards immediately took out their weapons. The soldiers raised up their guns, signalling them both to stop. Doing their job, they approached both men.

"Don't move any closer!" A female guard spoke. She sounded like Lauren, and once James got a closer view, it clearly wasn't her.

Tugging Caleb closer, James pushed him until he stumbled forward, eventually falling flat. After coughing out the dirt the jumped into his lungs, he coughed and rested on his knees. Feeling humiliated, he glared up at James and struggled to stand back up on his two feet. Right now, he was in the very center of five soldiers who would possibly slaughter him on the spot.

"What's this?" Another guard spoke with a gruff voice.

"Firefly," James spoke.

Seconds after everyone calmed down, they all placed their guards up again. Caleb's eyes slightly widened, shuffling his eyes around from side to side without directly looking at any of them,

"I'm not a Firefly…" Caleb responded.

"Bull. Shit," James spat. He looked at the other guards, "My district just got attacked back there and I followed him and another Firefly into an underground tunnel."

"How do we know you're not a Firefly then?" The first woman asked.

"He could be…" Caleb said, risking his freedom of speech.

James walked behind Caleb and powerfully kicked him into the pavement back to the ground. Digging his heavy boots into Caleb's back, Caleb let out a painful roar. In the process, James placed up one hand and announced that he would be reaching into his pocket and removing an ID card. Just as he said he would, he confirmed himself to be a soldier of the US military.

"Get off..." Caleb said, sounding strained with pain.

Denying his wishes, James continued digging his boot harder into Caleb's back. His eyes began to water from pain and he wiggled his fingers hectically as they were bound behind his back. The other guards, didn't bother helping Caleb until James took it upon himself to stop.

"Who's your lieutenant?" James asked.

* * *

According to the map of the Boston quarantine zone, the main precinct was located in the northwest part of the military quarters (which was located in the western part of the entire zone). James was familiar with the area since he had been there before, but only rarely. During times like this, the military was already spread thin. The precinct, unlike many other parts of the zone, was kept clean and well taken care of—Caleb didn't like that. It was unfair that everyone else, even the people, had to live in a pigsty.

James and Caleb were eventually separated and Caleb was taken in for questioning. Since he proved he was a soldier, his word of innocence was automatically taken.

Caleb sat in a dimly lit room, seated at a table across from another soldier he had never seen before. He introduced himself as Captain Wells—an older white skinned man with slicked back, platinum grey hair and pale blue eyes that almost looked demonic. He had an attractive face, broad forehead, and crooked nose that wrinkled with his forehead and crows feet when making certain expressions. Constantly, he kept a relaxed posture, which was somewhat bothersome. "At ease" was a term he took to the extreme. His voice made him sounded mid-aged, and he looked around his late fifties. He didn't look so new to this profession, so Caleb could assume that he was a captain even before the outbreak.

It had been a couple of minutes into the interrogation and Caleb was obediently answering every question that was thrown at him...for now.

"Are you with the Fireflies?" Wells asked, attempting to keep eye contact.

"No," Caleb simply answered.

"Have you killed any people?"

"Haven't we all?" Caleb asked with sneering smile, "I know you have, _Captain_."

Wells raised his eyebrows and exhaled as if he were getting prepared for something interesting. He readjusted himself in his seat and crossed his arms,

"And what makes you say that?"

"If I were Infected, I wouldn't be sitting here."

Wells stared at Caleb until he broke eye contact. Eventually, he was the one smiling, but it wasn't your typical smile of joy or happiness. It suggested something else. At this point, Wells scooted out his chair, the legs scratched against the hard floor. Getting up, he walked towards Caleb and eventually made it behind his chair. Caleb continuously shot him a glare. From behind, Caleb suddenly felt the handcuffs around his wrist get loosened and removed. Caleb slowly and cautiously brought his arms forward and placed them on his lap.

"Caleb, you look like a nice kid," Wells started off, sliding the cuffs to the center of the table, "I like to gain our enemies trust before we sentence them to prison," he walked back to his chair and planted himself in his seat, "I trust you...and I need you to trust me."

Caleb looked back in silence, he didn't believe Wells' facade.

"How many soldiers have you killed?" Wells' asked. Before Caleb could open his mouth, Wells decided to speak again, "Answer that one _very_ carefully," the captain said with a rather calm yet chilly ton. He didn't look annoyed or enraged, just curious.

Caleb, being the smart ass that he was, didn't give a damn. He proceeded to answer the question, especially since he knew it would be a topic about something, presumably, so valuable to the Captain,

"Yes," he simply replied.

Notably, Wells sat up and fixed his posture, folding his hands on the wooden table between them.

"How many?"

Caleb paused, actually reconsidering to tread lightly. He gulped.

"Seven."

Wells, exhaled and looked down in disappointment. Shifting his eyes back at Caleb, he spoke,

"You're not doing a good job at pleading not guilty,"

"Who says I'm not guilty?" Caleb replied, sounding soft spoken as usual.

Behind Wells, there was a bulletproof glass. Getting a two way mirror in an apocalyptic world wasn't as easy as people thought. Right outside of the glass, Caleb noticed James with his arms crossed and attention fixed on the both of them.

"Where were you before all of this?" Wells asked again.

At the sound of those words, Caleb's eyes lit up and he looked right back at Wells.

"The zone," he quickly answered.

"The zone? Is there a Firefly hideout near the zone?" Wells asked, trying to get a clue on where the rest of the Fireflies were.

"No..." Caleb said, "I've been living in the district the past month..." He looked back at James, "With James."

As James heard those words, a look of sudden shock appeared on his face. Just as puzzled as James was, Wells followed Caleb's eyes and turned his neck to look back at James behind the glass.

"What do you mean with James…?"

"I never got to meet you, Captain," Caleb sarcastically commented before reaching into his back pocket. Pulling out his ID that also proved he was affiliated with the military, the entire game plan was changed. Sliding the card onto the wooden table, with the handcuffs, the ID stated his rank, name, and sector.

"You've earned my trust," Caleb said ironically, raising his shoulders into a subtle shrug.

* * *

Caleb's scheme didn't go as planned. Thinking that something more grave would happen to James, Caleb was thrown in a separate cell a long time ago. Much to Caleb's surprise, he was kept alive. If he didn't know any better, he would have kept assuming that he would be one of the first inmates to be kept in this damn prison.

Just for clarification, it was now James' turn for questioning. Whether he was innocent or not, he had to go through the questioning process since he was involved with the whole thing. Just before entering the interrogation room of having a chance to escape, he was frisked by other soldiers in the building. He sat across from Wells and instead of answering questions, the two started off having a heated conversation about what really happened. However, just as Wells did with Caleb, he spoke the words about 'trust', fooling naive James. He began to tell his elaborate story, from finding out Caleb was a Firefly to the time where they first met. Wells just sat and listened while he spoke frantically. It was hard not to believe him.

"...I'm telling you, I-I met him just a couple of weeks ago," James began performing gestures with his hands while resting them on the table, "He-he got me out of a-uh, a tight situation and I thought he and I could be friends, but he was just a strange guy."

"Tight situation?"

"I stole some liquor from one of my colleagues. We got into a fight, but Caleb stopped it."

Wells' face didn't show any signs of remorse. If anything his face was filled with judgement. Professionally, he decided to move on with the topic.

"How was he a strange guy?" Wells questioned.

"He'd go out on runs alone, come really late, and he kept himself really isolated from everyone else."

"Didn't you think that if he was acting suspicious, to tell anyone?" Wells asked sternly, "That's why all of those soldiers dead. They didn't follow orders."

James twisted his face, looking at Wells in disbelief at the words that just came out of his mouth. All Wells could do was play a small smile,

"I didn't mean it like that," he paused, "You know what I meant. I'm right aren't I?"

James hesitated to answer,

"I-I guess…" James said, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Anything else you'd like to add?" Wells asked, staring straight ahead with his arms crossed.

"Does this make me a criminal?" James said, glaring up from his stressed out eyes.

"Nope…" Wells simply responded, "You're free to go. Get some rest."

James reluctantly scooted out his chair and stood up to exit the room, but before James could exit the room, Wells intercepted for a handshake. After grabbing his hand firmly, Wells refused to let go, causing the two to exchange close looks. His breath smelled like a fresh mix of coffee and cigarettes. Using the pointer finger on his other hand, he wagged it closely to James' face,

"Now this news...this news travels to no one, understand?" Wells said. All James could do was stare in confusion, "We don't want the civilians thinking we can't protect them…things are already hard enough as it is."

"But what about the civilians that were in my district?" James questioned, hand still clasped by Wells'.

"They're already taken care of," Wells said creepily.

James gave Wells a genuine look of worry, which caused Wells to change his tone. By the looks of it, Wells presumed that James wouldn't understand completely what Wells was insinuating. Wells released James' hand's from the feel of it growing sweaty,

"They're all being transported to another zone," Wells finished.

Unsure, James nodded and backed away from his odd captain. Turning around, he reached for the exit handle and walked off, rubbing his sweaty palms against his trousers. Wells watched James walk off and leaned on the table, deep in thought. It was until another soldier walked into the room to grab his attention,

"Is everything okay, Cap?" the soldier asked.

"Keep a close eye on that one."

* * *

James murmured in his sleep. The sight of explosions and flying limbs returned to him. Shuttering at the lips and sweating heavily, he spoke in his sleep.

"N-no..." he muttered, "Lauren…" he called, "Lauren."

Jumping in fright, he opened his eyes and stared directly at the chipped ceiling. Catching his breath, he continued to stare until he could come to an understanding that he was only having an unpleasant dream. He looked around in his new barrack, this time he was actually sharing an apartment with two other soldiers; he was just in a separate room. Being in the room alone made him reflect with how much his life changed since joining. Mentally, things weren't getting better; they were only getting worse, and it took a lot for him to come to terms with that.

He thought back to when he was a fresh face in military school. In an era like this, there were very few kids who strayed away from the ideology and propaganda of a military life. Now that he thought about it, those kids were actually the wise ones–individualistic enough to follow their own path in life. But not James, he was a sitting duck.

James sat up and wiped his forehead, both worried and astonished at how much he was sweating. Climbing out of bed, James stood up and exited his room. Walking into the kitchen, he entered the fridge and grabbed a bottle of cold water. Within seconds, he gulped it empty.

James found it difficult to go back to sleep on such a miserable night. He looked at the clock and noticed that it was only a half an hour before curfew. Deciding that he could loosen his legs, possibly exercise, and get some fresh air before curfew hit, he reached into his new bag and placed on a pale grey t-shirt. Carefully exiting his bedroom to prevent alerting the other soldiers, he looked to his side, peering straight down the corridor. The corridor looked the same, but what happened to catch his attention was the other bedroom doors, of each soldier, being left open. To James' surprise, both bedrooms were empty. James remembered them all going to bed around the same time, but James was too focused on himself at the moment to let that bother him.

Closing his bedroom door behind him, James continued to walk across the dark room and towards the exit. Just as James grabbed the doorknob, muffled whispers coincidentally grabbed his attention. James listened closely, and to his surprise, the voices became recognizable—it was the same soldiers he was rooming with. Their distant voices traveled closer to the entrance of the room. James thought that he would cut into the conversation and join in, but deep down in his gut, he got the message not to.

"Wells really needs to stop cutting into my fucking sleep for shit like this," one male soldier said, voice clear as a bell.

James brought his ear closer to the door to hear the other soldier speak.

"...I thought we already discussed to keep a close eye, y'know?" the second soldier said, lacking a feminine quality in her voice. "Until we kill that Firefly sonuvabitch, we kill this guy too."

"When he least expects it."

"When he least expects it…" the other repeated carelessly, as if it were the most important part to remember.

Behind the door, James had a look of horror stained on his face. At his core, he wanted to charge out and immediately confront both soldiers, but he couldn't. He knew if he tried something as risky, James would be a dead man walking. He didn't understand where the bad karma was coming from and why it wanted to ruin his life so desperately. Unable to stop himself from eavesdropping any longer, he listened a bit more. Eventually, the topic moved on to Caleb and that his execution date would be tomorrow. Frankly, James didn't care about that. The only question he wanted answered was "why him?" Why did they want James dead? Did they think he was lying? Did they think he was involved with the Fireflies? The only conclusion he could bring himself to was Caleb. The fact that he showed he was some double agent living within the walls might have been what incriminated James. Unfortunately, James had no one but himself and the pesky Firefly as a witness.

Within a couple of minutes into the jar heads' conversation and they were already in front of the door, and that was James' cue to retreat. Carefully stepping back, the floorboards made the loudest squeak he had ever heard in his life. James cursed in silence and paused. His eyes widened, listening closely to the guards as they instantly fell silent. Their lingering shadows from beneath the door changed shape, indicating movement. The steel doorknob began to slowly twist from the other side. The door was ultimately pushed opened. The lights from the lantern lit hallways gleamed in through the entrance. Looking from side to side, the male soldier examined the room. Straight across, he could see that James' bedroom door was sealed shut and presumed that there was no way he could hear a conversation from that distance. Satisfied, he shut the door right back and the two continued speaking on the outside.

"He's still asleep," he said just before both voices faded, traveling down the corridor.

As the door closed, revealing the James was hiding on the side of the exit, he let out a gratifying exhale. James pushed himself off the wall and quickly made his way to his bedroom, double taking every second. Finally entering and closing his room, he sat on the edge of his bed and curled his fingers into his face. He wanted to let out the loudest scream he could, just to release some frustration. James made the smart choice to not to talk to anyone else about it, because anyone's loyalties lied with the Captain, but he was finally coming to the realization that he was weak minded and couldn't sustain this kind of life in Boston. He couldn't since the very beginning.

* * *

James practically slept with one eye open the night before. Doing as a person with an anxiety disorder would do, James woke up worried every hour of the night until the next morning. His was head buried deep in morbid thoughts. Being provided with a single-sling backpack by his 'captain', James stuffed in a map, denim jeans, a shirt, matches, and some memorabilia to help keep him sane. He managed to give himself a killer headache, and noticed his eyes were bloodshot the next morning. With his paranoia heightened, a few knocks on his bedroom door was enough to speed up the rate of his heartbeat. James jumped to the sound, afraid to even respond.

"James?" a male voice called out, "James, open up, it's important."

Sitting on the edge of the bed with his back facing the door, James kicked his backpack underneath the bed and replied hesitantly,

"Come-" he cleared his throat, "Come in."

The door opened and one of the two soldiers, named Owen, peered inside.

"The execution is today, Wells wants to speak with us."

"Oh okay…" James nodded nervously. The sudden change in James' manners might have been obvious to anyone else in his previous district since they knew his character, but James reassured he was safe from suspicion here, "Um, h-how is this whole thing gonna go?"

"Well," Owen scratched his head, "To avoid any disturbances, we usually take them far out of the zone. Like in the middle of the woods or something."

"Don't we kill people within the districts all the time though?" James asked, sounding a little reluctant to point out first.

" _Infected_ people," Owen corrected, "If people see us killing someone without scanning them or seeing that we killed someone healthy, that could cause a big problem."

James nodded, almost fidgety in a sense.

"That makes sense."

After a moment or two, Owen looked at James as if he were examining him. He noticed something was a little off.

"Are you okay?" Owen asked.

James twisted his torso even more to look at Owen directly, scared that he might have been discovered. He knew how brilliant most soldiers could be just by simply glancing at someone dubious.

"Yeah…" He answered, "Y-yeah why?"

"No offense, brother, but you look very tired."

"Oh, um. Yeah," James paused and began to perform gestures with his hands like he regularly did. He opened his mouth, meanwhile thinking how to respond, but it took a while for the words to take an articulate form, "I've never done anything like this."

"Eh, it's alright. It's actually a reliever, man."

James blinked halfway,

"Reliever?"

"Yeah," Owen chuckled, "See you in a few."

Owen sounded completely unfazed by James apparent reaction—like he got a kick out of it. It was obvious that Owen was a soldier so desensitized that he could turn a blind eye at reactions like that. The soldier reeled himself out of James' room and loudly shut the door behind him. James kept his view on the door until he was positive that he could turn his attention back to the back underneath his bed. Once Owen's notable footsteps distanced themselves, James got right back up and began to pace back and forth in his bedroom. He muttered a couple of things to himself, sort of like a headcase, and came to a realization that no matter how this plan ended up, it wasn't going to be pretty sight.

When getting prepared, James' made sure his uniform was extra padded. He wore his utility vest, knee & arm pads, and wore a helmet for the first time in a very long time. Following his backpack, James made sure he was armed to the teeth. He had his assault rifle, pistol, ankle blade, and even Caleb's katana. It was a lot of stuff, but he needed something to last him, especially since he'd be hitting the road and hiking with all the other Infected. The thought of encountering Infected and other hostile survivors, possibly on a normal basis, was frightening–but not as frightening as knowing that you'd die by the hands of a treacherous captain. Finally exiting the building, James met up with Owen just outside the front porch of the building. As Owen took a couple of steps backwards to walk beside James, he knocked down a flower pot, which broke.

"Fucking flower pots…" He cursed.

Traveling through a thin block and making their way behind a large building, both soldiers reached a tiny parking lot, dried up weeds sprouting out of almost every crack within the ground. The parking lot consisted of three average cars, which probably had one working car out of the three. Unlike a glistening, metallic colored car James usually saw in scavenged magazines, there was a black car that was flatly colored and beaten—it was their chosen vehicle.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Owen commented.

James was too interested in his own business to give a laugh. Although he walked beside Owen, he eventually began to stray far behind. Every step he took, he was getting closer to making the biggest decision that would change his entire life. It was sad to say that in this world, there was no future, so he had nothing to worry about. It was either survive or die.

Before entering the passenger's side of the car, Owen looked up at James, both of their heads overlooked the rooftop of the car.

"What you got in that bag?" he asked. All James could do was look at him, "And why you got so much stuff?"

"Look, you can never be too prepared," James replied, "I've got a map."

"A map?" Owen repeated perplexed, leaning on the open door at the driver's side, "Why would we need a map?"

"In case we ever get lost."

"I know how to get back…"

"Ever been separated from you team?" James implied, something that never happened to him...but Owen didn't know that.

"No."

"Could happen someday."

Eventually the soldier took James' advice and climbed right into the car. With a silent sigh of relief, James climbed into the passenger's side as well. Another soldier who was responsible for guarding the gates of the parking lot (probably this world's safest yet most boring job) opened the fences and let them out.

* * *

The drive to headquarters wasn't that long. Before James knew it, he and Owen were already claiming Caleb. Standing just outside of his cell, upon first glance, James noticed Caleb had a black eye and split lip—swelled and unrecognizable. With a quick spit, a thick ball of a blood splattered among the other red stains on the concrete floor.

"You look different," Owen commented loudly.

"What the hell happened to him?" James asked, looking quite surprised at how battered his face was.

"Heard he mouthed off with a guard last night."

"I would've thought he tried murdering someone…" James said smartly.

"He did…" Owen replied, referring to the ambush.

James didn't bother replying, but only because of how true of a statement it was. At first, he could admit to actually feeling sorry for the traitor, but he just had to keep reminding himself that it's because of Caleb that he's in this mess in the first place. Showing a traitor pity was one of the first signs of weakness.

"Alrighty then, let's go," Owen said, faking a cheerful attitude.

He grabbed Caleb's cuffed hands by the wrist and walked him until they all exited the building. Putting him in the backseat of the car, they all prepared themselves to drive off to their next destination. As Owen buckled himself in, he placed an old cassette into the radio. The slow strumming of a guitar started off and the voice of a country singer began to fill the car. An old western song that no one knew the lyrics to, but Owen, began playing and melancholy suddenly filled the atmosphere. All thanks to Owen's twisted and uppity attitude.

From the backseat, all Caleb could do was glare outside of the window in mixed emotion. It took something mighty powerful to get him out the situation he was in. He looked up at Wells' window, noticing the Captain glaring right back at him with his most chilling gaze. The two stared directly at each other for about ten seconds, and the longer Caleb stared at him, the more Caleb got an antagonized feeling. Although Wells never cracked a smile nor lost a nerve, something was off about him...Caleb hated him. Without warning, the car pulled off and Caleb placed his head down, mentally preparing himself to finally greet death.

* * *

While cuffed, Caleb turned to look back, seeing the quarantine zone disappear as they raced deeper down the freeway. James could see Caleb in the side mirror. It was just completely odd to see someone not plead for the sparing of their life. It was almost as if the guy was asking for it. In the midst of thinking about Caleb's death, it immediately led to the thought of his own—which he was _not_ prepared for at all. James' gaze turned away and he looked over at Owen who was still singing loudly to the music, rhythmically bumping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove.

"I found this cassette a couple of days ago and I love it."

"Who is it?" James asked.

"Johnny Cash," he said loudly.

Owen reached forward to turn the music up a little louder. As James reached forward to turn it down, Owen slapped James' hand away. He mouthed the word "mine" and turned it up a couple of more notches.

Caleb began to cringe at the sound of it. Whatever genre it was, it wasn't exactly his taste. As Owen continued to tap his fingers more enthusiastically to his music, James played out the scenario on how things would go during the execution, in his head. He thought back to when Owen placed one sack in the back of the car, possibly to cover Caleb's head for when he shot him. He figured that Owen would've needed two sacks if he were going to kill two bodies, but James just couldn't take any chances. For all he knew, his execution could be tomorrow or maybe _he_ was the one being executed today after a change of unheard plans. The worst part of it all was that James could see himself dying. He could see blood trickling down his face and falling to his knees.

"Are you going to use a gun?" Caleb unusually asked in the midst of it all.

"Yo, what's your problem?" James asked, finally cracking, "You're so weird."

"I'm just _asking_ a question!" Caleb said quite angered.

"You're about to die, goddamn it! No one asks shit like that when they're about to die!" Admittedly, James only took the question personal because it also applied to him.

Owen, annoyed with the two's bickering. Turned up the radio to the point where they could no longer hear their own shouts. It was slightly deafening and irritating, and Caleb decided to no longer speak.

"Turn it down!?" James managed scream.

Owen ignored his request.

"TURN IT DOWN!" He shouted once more.

Like a common fool, Owen looked back at Caleb just to give him a smirk that ridiculed the both of them. As he turned his head back over to look at James in the passenger's seat, he felt time freeze. As James continuously shouted to have the radio turned down, Owen could spot an old maroon pickup truck driving right towards the side of their car.

"SHIT!" Owen shouted loudly.

Owen quickly turned the steering wheel causing the car the swerve straight into a divider on the highway. With the velocity of the car and force of the pickup truck, the car turned over on its side and rolled down a slope about five times. The windshield was heard cracking, items were heard falling and shuffling all over, and all three men in the car grunted and shouted as they were tossed around like a raffle. Once the car finally slowed down to its final toss, the car rested on its back.

The car's music continued to roar loudly, possibly calling the attention of every Infected within its perimeter. Johnny Cash sang to the world, reminding others of, not love—but how close they were to sin:

 _I keep a close watch on this heart of mine_  
 _I keep my eyes wide open all the time_  
 _I keep the ends out for the tie that binds_  
 _Because you're mine, I walk the line..._


	7. Chapter 6 - Abduction

Blood flowing to his head–is what Caleb woke up to. His unfocused vision began to clear up as he was taken out of his unconscious state by the alarming loud music that roared throughout the vehicle. He tried moving, and realized that his hands were still handcuffed behind his back. The harder he tried to shuffle around, he felt a sharp pain in his right arm. In addition to his black eye and split lip, he had an extra injury that could probably risk his safety. He looked side to side, noticing the window to his right was broken. Scanning the streets as best as he could, Caleb looked around for the vehicle that ran into them. He didn't know what color it was, or how it look since it all took him by surprise, but there was a car nowhere in sight. Whoever the hell would ambush a car with two soldiers and a dead man walking was beyond him. He was sure he would have known if it were the Fireflies trying to help him escape, not to mention, hurting him in process wasn't something ethical of them. He turned his gaze to the two soldiers in the front seats.

Caleb examined James, who was safely buckled in just as he was. He followed his eyes from James' arms dangling to the ceiling, to the cracks on the windshield. The cracks webbed out from the left corner of the glass, leading Caleb's eyes over to Owen, which was a stomach churning sight. Initially not being buckled in, Owen's body was situated to the ceiling and his face was covered entirely with his own blood, coursing through the broken bones in his face. His body had to at least be broken in multiple places since Owen was practically folded like a slab of meat.

"Fuck!" Caleb hoarsely panicked, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Relentlessly wiggling in place, he began to slip out from underneath the seat belt. With it only holding a little below his thighs, he shimmied even more. Eventually coming to the most uncomfortable position he had ever been in, which consisted of his forehead touching the ceiling. He was able to freely maneuver his body to the far left side of the car and get the remainder of his legs out from the belt strap.

It was harder than he anticipated, and he rested in the corner, catching his breath for a couple of moments before moving another muscle. Practically squeezed in the corner of the back window, Caleb bent his legs and brought his knees up to his chin. Using his build and flexibility (which wasn't that great), he brought his handcuffed arms to the front by swooping them underneath his body. However, all that time was enough to get James to finally come to his senses. He cleared his throat and his lips began moving, almost like soft smacking. In the midst of recovering, James turned his head over and noticed Owen's body beside him.

Acknowledging Owen's grave injuries, James called out his name regardless. Foreseeable, Owen gave no response. James was both disturbed and surprised that he didn't even have to lift a finger to deal with Owen. Their situation pretty much concluded most of his plans for escaping, but the situation wasn't any better for James then from when it first started. Regaining some strength and fully recovering from his dazed feeling, he looked over his shoulder, directly at Caleb, who was squirming out of the back window.

"Hey…" James said weakly.

Once Caleb fully scooted out of the car and made it to his feet, he sprinted straight towards the trees. James, coming to a full alert, prepared to chase after him and not grant him the satisfaction of escaping.

"HEY! HE-" James immediately reached for his seat belt and hit the eject button, falling to his head. He used his forearms to break most of his fall.

With the position he landed in, he tried his hardest to avoid having any contact with Owen's beaten corpse beside him. Nearly pinned down on all fours, James attempted to push open the jammed-in door, but with every straining nudge, he made only made himself more fatigued. Caleb looked back as he was running, seeing James banging and pounding on the glass. His shouts couldn't be heard over the loud music, but it didn't stop Caleb from noticing the Clicker that nearly chomped off his neck.

With a shout, Caleb fell to his back and laid on the dirt. He panted heavily as the Clicker dived towards him with its arms out, croaking and shrieking loudly. There was really no way to take out a Clicker with your bare hands–let alone handcuffed. Caleb's only alternative was to run. Rapidly, Caleb lifted both legs with a massive use of lower body strength and pressed it to the Clicker's gut, pushing it back with heavy force. Like the soldier he was trained to be, Caleb quickly turned over and pushed himself up with both hands. With extreme speed, Caleb bolted back to the car and dived right back in through the back window. The Clicker, just outside was only smart enough to get most of it's shoulder inside. It screamed and clawed at Caleb, who flew kicks at its arms and fungus filled face every chance he got. Caleb managed to break a couple of its fingers, but it wasn't enough to make it flee. It only became more enraged.

James, positioned in the front seat, witnessed the assault in silence. It seemed like Caleb's position as bait was coming in handy. James knew that if he happened to make a sound, he risked his chances of being noticed by the Clicker since it was on his side of the car. Fortunately for him, the loud music only masked James' little noises. He looked back at Caleb cornered in by the other side.

"Fucking…" Caleb grunted, sending another kick, "Fucking help me!"

Uncertain to what he should do next, James' thinking was eventually stalled by a large object that caught his glance from the corner of his eye. With a double take, James took notice of a large pickup truck with a broken headlight and jammed bumper. While the attacks were going on in the back seat, the truck pulled up extremely close to the overturned car. James could see a group of men with their faces covered with gas masks, all jumping out of the truck–two from the front and three from the back trunk. From the driver's seat a woman walked out, her face being the only one bare. They each had shotguns and one of the men began to strut approach the car. Coincidentally, just as the music came to a stop, the pump action was heard, and the Clicker was instantly killed after being shot twice in the back.

Caleb, who flinched in surprise, covered his face as droplets of blood scattered on his denim joggers. Slightly uncovering his eyes and sitting up, Caleb found himself speechless. Were they allies? Within that second, Caleb was yanked by the leg and pulled out of the car. The broken remains of glass that were still attached to the window made deep thin scrapes on his back and made small tears in his clothes. Caleb shouted while ultimately being exposed to the outside. Being bound by handcuffs, he was clearly in no position to face the stranger who mounted himself on top. Grunting and struggling to fight free, Caleb managed to sway off a couple of punches until a powerful one was delivered right to his face. He tried to fight inevitable feeling, but his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was out like a light. The man who was somewhat larger than Caleb, lifted his body and tossed him over his shoulder. He transported Caleb over to the vehicle and dumped his body into the trunk as if he were slaughtered meat.

James, at this point, was completely shocked by what he was seeing. Staring directly at the woman of the group, it was clear that she was the one calling shots. She lifted her arm and pointed directly at the car. Taking notice of the others, James looked over to see another one of the men approaching his side. Without hesitation, the man broke through the glass with the bum of his shotgun. The glass shattered on impact, and James tightly covered his eyes and turned his face away. Using all his strength and body mass to his advantage, he fought as hard as he could to not be apprehended. Without warning, another man approached him and quickly dragged him out the car. Clearly he was heavier and immobile. Using his skillet of self defense, James jumped up and threw up his fists. All five men lifted their shotguns, and James wasn't stupid enough to think that he overpower them. Slowly, he calmed his stance and brought his hands up to mid level, showing his palms.

With the snap of the woman's fingers, James was frisked like a smuggler. All weapons, including his bag, was snatched away from him and tossed into the back with Caleb. The woman, only standing a couple of feet away, could be noticed sizing up James, which made him feel very uncomfortable.

Her appearance is what surprised him. She wasn't crazy looking–at first. She had clean complexion like porcelain, possessed long thick blonde hair, and piercing green eyes. What threw James off is the moment she smiled. Softly giggling, she revealed an ugly mouth full of brown stained teeth. To add to the grotesque appearance of her mouth, she freely smoked a cigarette. Tossing it down, she stepped on it.

"Hello…" she said calmly. Her voice was low and very raspy, but managed to give off an assertiveness to her. It was in her stance. Her gestures and postures, "I don't know much about your friend there, but you'd be perfect."

She turned and strolled back to her truck. James furrowed his eyebrows and looked back and forth at the men that surrounded him before he decided to speak,

"Perfect for what?"

"You'll see," she simply said without turning her back, "It's a surprise."

From the back, James felt a hard blow to his head that brought him to his knees in pain. He rested his palms on the soil beneath him and looked at the woman, who turned her back to him one last time just before he was given a final strike.

* * *

Waking up with an aching stomach due to hunger, James struggled to roll on his back and blinked his eyes repeatedly to make sure there was nothing wrong with his eyesight. Turns out, he was just in a room of pitch darkness. Strangely, he felt fully rested, which wasn't a good sign once he thought back about the situation he was in this morning. Wasting no time, James helped himself sit up and examined the room once his eyes got use to the dark. He was in, what resembled, a small cage. The cage possessed a chained door that served as an entrance and exit. The room was faintly lit, and there were about one small lantern just outside the gate. James groaned, bringing himself to his feet. The floor was very hard textured and made of a material he could only describe as concrete painted over with a very thick layer of paint. His boots squeaked almost move he made.

There were no windows in sight, the air was humid and dry, and it smelled very unpleasant. He swatted at the horseflies he could hear buzzing at his ears every now and then. Bringing himself closer to the gates of the small cell, James grabbed it and shook it with all his might, hoping there would be some signs of budging, but there was nothing. James looked up and down the hallway that fell into complete darkness the further it was from him.

"Hello?" James' voice echoed. He wanted to call out again, "Hell–"

"No one there," A clear voice said behind him.

Nearly yelping from fright, James turned around and saw a body resting up against the gate within the shadows. The body turned and slowly walked out, revealing himself to be Caleb.

Overcome with a temper he hadn't let out since he last punched Sid, James, without hesitation, took the bet he was confident he would win. Huffing out his chest, he aggressively stomped towards Caleb, which eventually turned into a full out hurtle. His veins popped out of his forehead and neck as he yelled in the process, sending a powerful hook at Caleb's head. Caleb, with ease, ducked and turned around in the process of passing underneath James' arm and stared at his back.

"Stop," Caleb said, placing up his hands in defense. Miraculously, his handcuffs were removed, "Stop! I don't want to fig-"

He wanted to calm the situation since fighting would help neither one of them, but as if he were almost maddened by rage, James continued to charge at Caleb–who could no longer differentiate the soldier from an Infected. With full force, James tackled into Caleb, lifting him while simultaneously slamming him to the ground. With the deep scratches already in his back, Caleb let out a loud grunt and took a moment to experience the pain before returning his concentration on James. James, showcased all his strength and lifted Caleb by the jawline with ease, slamming his back to the cage gate about three times.

Wrapping his brawny hands around Caleb's neck, James powerfully squeezed his throat until Caleb showed signs of gasping for air. It was difficult to think straight when you were in the midst of being beaten to death. Caleb began to struggle and felt his face begin to tint red. Attempting to smack or pry off James' hands was of no use. Almost like a defense mechanism or instinct, Caleb's adrenaline began to kick in once he made the staunch choice to fight back. He could feel his pupils dilate and his heart begin pumping warmly to every vein in his body.

The main rule was survival, and Caleb wasn't going to be undermined by a soldier again considering his history with them. It was apparent that James was more of a brawler, whereas Caleb had some combat up his sleeves. Therefore, he used it to his advantage.

Reaching towards the air with his healthy, left arm, he twisted his upper torso. Bending his arm, he delivered powerful jabs with his elbow to James' forearms. It nudged James' nearest hand out of the way and loosened the clutch from Caleb's neck. Releasing his hand to quickly place it on his throat again, Caleb didn't give James the opportunity. Caleb used his arm to swing his elbow powerfully at James' throat, causing him to fall back with a deep cough and hoarse gasp; almost tearing from the pain. Caleb ran forward and reached for James, wrapping his arm around the back of James' neck and following up into a headlock. Being slightly bent and captured underneath one of Caleb's armpits, James was kneed multiple times in the stomach and chest, each hit becoming more intense.

Hearing James' painful cries exhilarated Caleb, confirming that he was indeed more skilled than anticipated. He was satisfied to let James know that in a fair match. Following up with a release and powerful knee to the face, James uncontrollably stumbled back slammed towards the back of the cage, James was seen holding his stomach in pain. He clenched his eyes, teeth, and panted heavily as he nearly fell to the ground. As usual, he sweated abnormally. Using the cage to hold himself erect, he faced Caleb's direction again. Staggering back and forth after recovering, he wiped his mouth free of any excess saliva knocked out of his mouth. Again, charging forward with his fist up, he halted to get enough momentum behind his strike. Lifting both forearms just in time to block it away, Caleb ducked as another hook swung over his head. As James threw his final punch, Caleb moved to the side and held it as James fully extended out his jab. While in contact with one another, Caleb turned his back to James and used his left arm to quickly reach underneath James' armpit and clutch his entire arm. Quickly, James was tossed over Caleb's back in a judo flip. He practically slapped the floor so hard, he might as well have been apart of it.

James was lying weak and breathless on the floor. He positioned himself to lay on his stomach and placed his arms out in front of him in as if he were prepared to push himself up.

"Even I know when to give up," Caleb said regarding his current feelings of no longer wanting to fight.

He could've continued if he wanted to but he didn't want to fight any longer because his number one priority was getting the hell out of wherever they were. Once things were over and done with, James and Caleb could either go their separate way and never speak again, or continue their fight from where it left off.

But James didn't give a proper response. Instead, he silently sat up and began inspecting his bloody nose. He thought it would have been broken considering how he got his ass handed to him just now. James was so drained he didn't have the option to fight, but he had a little too much pride to socialize with a traitor. Caleb cleared his throat and all James could do was give a glare that reflected true agony. In all honestly, he was disappointed in himself to let anger control him like a loose cannon. He could never kill anyone else before, so why the sudden urge? It was potentially human or human potential.

Within that moment, a loud clapping was heard just outside the cage. The same woman from before came out of the shadows. At the sight of her, James quickly made it to his feet and walked to the fence, being face to face with her.

"Wow," she said, following up with an ugly cackle, "I've never been so turned on in my life."

"Let us out!" James demanded.

"I can't do that…" The woman said, revealing a hidden country accent with her words.,

"Look, whatever you want, you have the wrong person. I-I'm a soldier, he's a Firefly and was supposed to be killed," he pointed back and forth between Caleb and himself, "He should be locked up, not me. Take _him_."

Having the cage separate the two of them, James became aware of her expression lacking any sign or empathy or remorse. Even if she did or didn't know James was a soldier, she could have cared less.

He wanted to know more.

"Who are you? And those men?" James asked, genuinely curious.

She paused for a moment, giving another devilish smile that looked as if she were possessed.

"I'm Beth," she introduced, "And those men were my brothers. I have a lot more."

"Are…" he hesitated, "...Were you a soldier?" James asked, referring to her use of the word 'brothers'.

"No, no, no. Never," Beth shook her head.

"Then who are you?" James asked a little more belligerently, "Why the hell are we here?"

Beth may have looked like a bit of a lunatic, but she wasn't the one to disparage. She crossed her arms and a much more serious look awoke on her face.

"The ceremony."

"...Ceremony?" Caleb reacted nonplussed.

"You two are offerings."

For the first time, he and James exchanged looks that could tell they were on the same page of uncertainty.

"Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?" James said, clearly getting frustrated at what he was hearing.

"When the time comes, you'll see."

Taking off without removing her eyes from them, she exited the area, vanishing into the darkness as her footsteps faded off as well. Once it was clear that she was gone, James looked over at Caleb and delivered a heavy kick to the cage in anger. He wanted to get the hell out.


	8. Chapter 7 - Ceremony

_( **Update 7/14/07** : Proofread, improved writing)_

They weren't sure if it mattered or not, but Caleb and James had been shown some considerable amount of hospitality since the evening they were kidnapped. Beth made it very clear that one of their 'policies' for the ceremony was that the offerings were in tiptop condition, and that included a full stomach and tended wounds. Ironically, the two still had no clue what this ceremony would be about. Caleb's black eye went down and his cuts were wiped clean. The same thing went for James, who only suffered from a bruised nose and a couple of scrapes. It didn't make sense to either of them but food and first aid wasn't something they were going to refuse. Their food wasn't the best tasting but beggars can't be choosers, and although they both shared a cell, Caleb and James still had not spoken to each other since their last fight. Caleb had his back turned to wherever James was situated. Although you could rarely see though the shadows of his corner, he showed consideration when James was there-or anyone for that matter.

James could be heard shuffling with his pants and belt buckle. Lastly, the zipper of his fly was heard being pulled up.

"Finished…" James said, sounding very pleased. He walked out of the dark corner holding a roll of toilet paper in his hand. He placed it on the ground beside the exposed toilet, "You gotta go?"

Caleb shook his head.

"No."

He didn't bother initiating into a conversation with James because he feared that it could possibly lead to James having another outburst like last time. If it ever came to it, Caleb would kill him. With his back still facing James, he stretched out and laid flat on a small sheet that was given to rest on. James walked over to the far end of the cage and rested his back against the wall. Lazily, he slid down until he sat on his own sheets, having a few prints from the bottom of his boots.

"What do you think this ceremony is about?" James asked, retaining a calm voice.

"Don't know," Caleb responded, "I'm not sticking around to find out."

"What are you gonna do, fight every single one of 'em?" James asked.

Obviously, it was a rhetorical question, but Caleb bothered answering anyway.

"Precisely," he confirmed confidently.

"You're crazy you know that?"

Resting on his back, Caleb slightly turned his torso in over to give James a side eye,

"How does wanting to leave this place makes me crazy?" Caleb asked, his speaking became a bit louder, "By all means, I'm sure they'll recruit you as one of their cult 'brothers' or whatever," Although he was awaiting for a reply, James didn't respond. Satisfied with his remarks, Caleb rested his head back down and made a final comment that would probably be considered going the extra mile, "Wouldn't be the first time you join an insane organization."

The situation they were both in was terrible and it caused James' thinking to become irrational. It pissed him off once Caleb made that statement regarding the military. It took every bone in his body to prevent him from retaliating, because he would only be proving him right. Caleb already knew most of James' treatment, but probably wasn't aware that he was also on Wells' hit-list. He would probably use it as a punchline to every comment about the military if he knew. Something James concluded about Caleb so far, was that he had a sharp wit and was an expert at sarcasm.

"Goodnight," Caleb finalized.

A couple of hours later was like a bombshell. Caleb was roughly awoken by being turned over and picked up by multiple hands as if he were a handled rag doll. He was completely unaware of what time of the day it was or how long he had gotten the chance to sleep for. He was turned upright and immediately thrown against the cage, blindfolded and gagged. His arms were restrained behind his back once again and he yelled through the cloth that was placed between his lips. In the silence of trying to fight back, all he could hear was James' yells and constant grunts of five men jumping him. By assuming that they were transporting him somewhere else, Caleb couldn't think of any place better than the cage he was imprisoned in. Kicking and tugging around wildly, he was instantly knocked out to prevent trouble.

* * *

The next thing the Firefly could recall was waking up for a second time, finding himself resting on an unclean, granite textured floor. He peered through his slightly opened eyes and shot his eyeballs around, observing a _very_ large area he was in. It didn't resemble a house or any kind of residence he had ever seen. There was high rise ceilings, thick columns, and spacious pathways. In Caleb's mind, he could imagine what it would have looked like decades ago with crowds of people. Feeling the dust make it into his lungs, he gave out a couple of deep coughs that ended with a short wheeze. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head, still feeling somewhat of an ache from his recent beating. He was able to see freely, he wasn't gagged and neither his hands nor feet were tied. Just as he placed himself in a crawling position to make it to his feet, he felt his foot tap something. Turning around, he saw a brown backpack resting on a nearby trash bin. Not even questioning if it belonged to him, he took it for himself and unzipped it. He reached inside for something his eyes couldn't make out darkness. Pulling it out, it appeared to be an angle-head flashlight he could put into the pouch of the backpack's sling. Eventually toggling it on, he shined it upon certain areas that were difficult to see in the distance. The place, however, had a fair amount of standing work lights, plugged up along the aisles and pathways of the store. The lights were so powerful, they brightened yards in the directions they pointed towards.

He was closest to a pair of escalators that led to upper and lower levels, large counter tops and multiple tables; upright or overturned. The place was practically stripped clean of whatever it use to hold. There were scraps of torn ties and shirts here and there, leaving implications that he was in a clothing store, specifically the men's department. _Where the hell am I?_ Caleb thought to himself.

Thanks to the size of the exits, it was enough to seize Caleb's attention. Making his way to the walkway to the left of the escalators, Caleb looked both ways and noticed that the location stretched towards the opposite direction for another couple acres. He was amazed by the size. He approached the exit closest to him and he began pushing and pulling doors as hard as he could. He couldn't get the door to budge one bit after his repeated his attempts and the bulletproof glasses were nearly impossible to break with brute strength. Not too far from his left, there was another exit that looked similar to the one he was at. Beaming over to it, he attempted the same methods, but nothing worked. At this point, he was already huffing for air.

Out of the blue, a soft humming was heard and very few of the lights and vents powered on. The electricity didn't get around to the escalators, but that was the least of his concerns. Frightened, with his back pressed against the bulletproof glass, he inspected around him.

"Hello offerings," a masculine, yet pleasant voice echoed throughout the store. Once Caleb heard the word 'offerings', he knew it was Beth's group having some involvement in this. He spoke again over the intercom, "I welcome you to your arena; where you will be hunted and sacrificed," It was evident that he speaking with a smile, "In case you're new here and wondering what's going on: Every month, we hold a ceremony for ourselves and our Infected family."

"Infected family?" Caleb mumbled distastefully.

"To ensure that our loved ones they're never forgotten, we _offer_ you to them, during this ceremony, as a sign of remembrance. The ceremony will start in ten seconds…" Caleb began to walk quickly, hoping he could find a way out. However, the Brother's voice echoed on the intercom once again, "Oh right, and I almost forgot—if you end up infected, you turn."

The Brother said it as if it were amusement, giving a light chuckle before the lights in the entire mall shut back off with a loud 'bang'. Caleb froze in place from paranoia and fright. Only having his flashlight to aid him, Caleb looked into every dark corner. He began to breath heavily and he got goosebumps to the sounds of blood-curdling screams and croaks that sounded nothing more than a barbaric.

"Shit," Caleb whispered to himself, "Infected."

Caleb's plan from the very beginning of his abduction was to gut Beth and her brethren like the filth they were. Although he was still very much committed to it, he had to find a weapon first. So until then, Caleb had to evade every enemy he could. Pausing to the sound of two men laughing loudly from one of the doorways within the area, Caleb powered off his flashlight and dove behind the nearest counter for cover. The counter only had one path for entering and exiting, so Caleb was basically trapped until the Brothers were out of sight. Foolishly, the two men spoke with one another aloud, giving away their positions and possibly luring other Infected that didn't discriminate between their stupid cult and a couple of sacrifices. He wasn't curious enough to get a good look at whether or not they were armed since it meant getting the cat killed—but it was naive to presume that they weren't.

As they spoke, Caleb could tell by their footsteps that they were stepping closer to him. Slightly shifting his body, the shards of glass and rubble he was settled on, crunched. Notably, the men stopped speaking.

"Did you hear that?" one of the men whispered.

"Hear wh-"

"Shh!"

With little to no room to crawl deeper into, he pressed his legs up against his chest. Probably for the first time in a long time, he internally prayed to make it out alive. He could still hear their footsteps, but the trepidation he felt disoriented his focus. If he was going to get caught, he had no way of defending himself against two armed men. Suddenly, a deafening and frightening gunshot was heard. A woman was heard screaming,

"Please! Please! NOOOO-AGHHH!" She was heard panting and running for her life.

"There she is!"

"She-she's circling around, get her on that side!" The other shouted.

Caleb heard their footsteps immediately depart from one another and distance themselves from where he was. He discreetly elevated himself with only the top half of his head looking over the counter to see the men no longer in sight. A couple of other shouts were heard and as the girl shrieked loudly, it was cut off by the sound of a, presumably fatal, gunshot.

Caleb quickly made it to his feet and hauled himself over the counter, carefully looking around before his feet touched the ground. Immediately, he began to hurdle, slowing down as he approached the same doorway that the two Brothers initially walked out of. He spotted a bronze colored escalator that led to upper levels. Cautiously looking around, Caleb decided that it would probably be best to make it to a different floor in order to avoid the enemies present his floor. Nearing the stairs, Caleb tried walking as quietly as he could, constantly checking behind him to make sure that the Brothers weren't returning. Making it past the second floor, he continued to the third.

Feeling like prey, Caleb remained hidden to avoid any risks of being spotted. He stopped mid-way and laid low after hearing snarls and shouts coming his way. Hidden in the dark, he saw saw a random man beam past the double doorways directly in front of him. He was running for his life. Continuing to lay low, Caleb saw two Runners chasing after the random man. It was obvious that Caleb and the military jerk weren't the only two apart of this ceremony. Once the Infected were out of sight, Caleb hesitated but resumed to make his way up towards the third floor. Almost walking out of the doorway, he immediately crouched and hid behind a nearby trash bin at the sight of a staggering Clicker. It shrieked and croaked as it listened closely to its surroundings. Fortunately for Caleb, a loud scream was heard and the Clicker continued to chase after the rest of its party. With his back facing the escalator that continued up towards the fourth floor, Caleb slowly rose up and felt a pair of strapping hands grab him from behind and cover his mouth. He cried out, but his shouts and grunts were heavily muffled. Using all his strength and body weight against the person behind him, Caleb pushed and felt the body behind him slam against a wall. The man grunted, but that wasn't enough to weaken his grip.

"Shh! Shh!" The man shushed, "Calm down, It's me! It's me!"

Being released, Caleb quickly fell to the ground and scrambled away until he hit the opposite wall. Turning on his flashlight and setting his gaze on the individual, he was partly relieved to see that it was James. Caleb held his chest and let out a heavy exhale while sitting on the floor to calm himself. Shading his eyes from the bright light, James walked closer. Similar to Caleb, he was stripped of his weapons and given a light as well,

"You alright?" James asked, concerned. He extending out his hand, "Lucky to still be alive."

Caleb shoved James' hand aside,

"I'm fine," he groaned with a strain in his voice. He made it to his feet and dusted himself off, "Don't you know it's not smart to sneak up on people like that…"

James dismissed his attitude and toggled on his flashlight, getting a good look at Caleb's flinching face. He could gather that Caleb was truly afraid and just trying to maintain his loner facade since James happened to show up.

"Looks like you were right about these guys being some crazy cult."

"Yeah, no shit," Caleb replied, looking at James with vexation. He dusted himself off one last time.

"Where'd you wake up?"

"Main floor," he said, clearly settling down, "What about you?"

"Fifth," James paused, "We can help each other get out of here."

Caleb was taken aback by James' sudden decision to aid one another. Caleb, still hadn't put their rival positions behind him, but seeing that James did so effortlessly made him rethink his attitude. There was no way he was going to let some dog face one up him. He looked away and shrugged after hesitating,

"How? They're everywhere."

"Listen to me," James said, slowly and awkwardly resting his palm on Caleb's shoulder, "Those guys have weapons. If we can get ourselves some guns...we can clear us a path out of here."

Caleb began to shake his head,

"We can't get out, the main exits are locked and bullet resistant."

"Shit…"

A light bulb looked like it appeared over Caleb's head,

"What about emergency exits?"

"Barricaded..." James said in disbelief.

"They were certainly prepared for this," Caleb groaned with discouragement and an eye roll, "I mean, why wouldn't they be."

That's when James' and Caleb's attention was grabbed by some ambient noises up on the next level. James looked back at Caleb and spoke, whispering even softer than before,

"Just follow me. Turn off your flashlight to avoid attention."

Seconds after getting off the escalator, both Caleb and James walked towards the doorway that led to the entrance of the fourth floor. There were retractable barriers scattered on the floors of this level. They both crawled underneath them, and before making it into the opening, James extended his arm to hold Caleb back from walking any further. They were both concealed in the shadows, but just outside was a tall work light that would've exposed them like stage lights.

James listened closely and could hear soft footsteps approaching them. Immediately, Caleb jumped to the other side of the double doorway and quickly hid deep into dark spot. Just as Caleb did that, James stayed hidden in place without moving a muscle. The approaching Brother was on his own, but it was unwise to think that there was no other Brother's following after. The Brother walked past until he came into a worm's-eye view from Caleb's crouched position; and he was stunned at what he saw on the Brother's back: Caleb's katana—there was no mistaking that it belonged to him. Caleb shot a look over at James, who was so concentrated on staying silent, that Caleb wildly waved his arms to grab his attention. James looked over at him and saw him mouthing words,

" _That's my sword!_ " Caleb mouthed and pointed aggressively.

Due to the darkness, James could only see the eccentric movement of a silhouette. He brought his arms up and placed his finger on his lips. Caleb understood that now wouldn't be the perfect time, but he made a promise to himself that he would retrieve his sword and let the real hunt begin. The exit from the escalators was closest to a pathway that led to the further end of the store. Once the Brother turned a corner, it was their signal to get moving without being seen. James peeked out from behind the wall and crawled even quicker until he crossed over into the other segment of the store that was in the opposite direction of the Brother. There was nothing but numerous rags of clothes, dirt, and debris; and the wrong footing could alert any enemy in the proximity. Changing his position into crouched run to move even quicker, he looked back to seeing Caleb nowhere in sight. While frantically searching the area, he hid behind a somewhat exposed shoe table.

Caleb had a plan of his own. Disobeying James' orders, he followed the Brother with the katana, himself. Standing and quietly turning the same corner as the enemy, Caleb threw himself on the floor to give give the impression that he tripped. Quickly, the Brother turned around and whipped out a pistol,

"The fuck!?" The Brother exclaimed, pointing the gun straight at Caleb.

"Don't shoot!" Caleb quickly said, sticking an arm out. He portrayed a painful manner and stood up, faking a shaky limp, "Help, please. I-I'm infected."

"Infected?" The Brother said in disbelief, "Where?"

"M-my ankle…"

The brother looked heedful, but Caleb's only hope relied on how skilled the Brother was with a sword. He inched closer to Caleb, only taking small steps at a time,

"Don't try anything stupid."

James, on the other hand, could hear the discussions going on between the Brother and Caleb. He was stunned at this point, confused on whether or not Caleb got caught without him noticing. That's when James began to hear the noises of other men in his area. Fully taking shelter in a wide opening underneath the table, James peered out of a small space that allowed him to see the two armed Brother's making their way in his direction. James knew that if they walked past his position, they would walk into Caleb on the other side.

With so little time, James struggled with the choices he had to make. Deep down, he wanted to forget Caleb and save himself because he believed the Firefly properly deserved it. Caleb was a dead man from the beginning and if anything else still stood, it was that Caleb had to be executed—better yet, he wouldn't have to do it himself.

But something would prevent him from making such a selfish choice.

* * *

To keep Caleb from running into further trouble, James had to do his part in keeping the other Brothers distracted. He had an ice ball's chance in hell if he tried to fight them off on his own, but James wasn't as impulsive to sentence his own life. Avoiding to be seen at all costs, James crept along the pine furniture and windows. In due time, he made it across to the other side of where he formerly was. He hid behind a ruined sofa, and to his side was a large beer bottle. Observing the area he was in, there was a large opening in the center of the room that led to a pair of escalators leading to the levels below. Perfect.

Extending out his arm and quickly launching it like a catapult, the bottle spun through air and fell through the pit in the center of the room. As James heard it shatter, he could hear the curious responses being murmured between the Brother. Shortly afterward, they followed the noise, instantly vanishing from the fourth floor.

James discreetly made his way back to where he and Caleb were last seen together. Briefly casting a large shadow as he rushed past the standing work light, he stood hidden to the side and took cover. Just as James predicted, Caleb was encountering the initial Brother he saw wandering past the both of them. Although he couldn't voice his opinions loudly, he shook his head from where he was positioned.

Caleb hoaxed up winces as the Brother knelt and rolled up the hem of Caleb's pants. Just as that was happening, Caleb spotted his golden opportunity. Caleb deemed himself the only one capable enough to carry around his sword, and the foolish Brother didn't know how to handle the very weapon he had equipped on his back. Everything went just as Caleb hoped it would and he quickly reached down, grabbing the handle that extended from the scabbard. He blindly withdrew the sword, having the Brother look up with evident horror. As Caleb proceeded to raise it, he tightly clutched the handle with both hands, and struck down towards the Brother's face. James cowardly looked away in his hidden corner. His body lifelessly flew to the side and his yells cut-off as specks of blood scattered on the rusty elevator door closest to them.

Without even acknowledging the dead body at his feet, Caleb weakly fell to his knees. With both hands leveled, he held the katana horizontally and absorbed its presence. In the center of a distant work light, glares managed to pass through the shadows and hit his sword. The glint that bounced off the blade of his sword illuminated and reflected in his hazel eyes.

Spying from behind, James couldn't help but witness Caleb's private moment with an inanimate object. It wasn't hard to tell that Caleb had a very odd and in-tune relationship with his katana since James first confiscated it. He made the presumption that in a world like this; where others deeply depended on weapons to survive, his weapon was his protector. Also, Caleb was never really a social guy to begin with. Fearfully, James stood up and slowly walked out from his hiding place. Clearly hearing his footsteps, Caleb looked over his shoulder with a gasp. Once he perceived that it was James, he quickly turned back and wiped his face.

"Hey," Caleb said calmly. Placing the sword on the floor beside him, he reached forward and inspected the Brother's corpse. He retrieved his scabbard and presented James' ankle blade and handgun by spreading them on the floor. Standing, he spoke, "Here James..."

James looked down at Caleb, sort of surprised that he was referred to by name. Frankly, it sounded humanizing to hear his name come from the mouth of another person, especially Caleb. They stared at each other for a while before Caleb could look away first, remaining alert at all costs. James reached down and wrapped the ankle knife and it's holster around his ankle and placed the pistol in one of his pockets,

"Alright," James calmly exhaled, "Let's get out of here."

Caleb exhaled in annoyance, afraid of that being James' first objective. He shook his head and thought differently,

"Not yet," Caleb pause. Facing James, he paused and pointed over his broad shoulder, "Shit, look out!"

James looked over his shoulder and hastily made a run for it after spotting a stranger with a pistol and an assault rifle. Both he and Caleb broke apart and scattered in separate directions. As three shots darted around uncontrollably, a gunshot missed Caleb by inches, shattering a glass billboard in front of him and between the elevators. The Brother managed to empty out his pistol and hurled it to the side. Grabbing his assault rifle next, he decisively pulled the trigger without bothering to take proper aim. Luckily for the Brother, James got hit in the left calf. James shouted, and fully sought for cover behind a large wooden column. His hands trembled, looking at the gunshot wound through his pants. His breathing became uneasy and he tried to stand, but the unbearable pain was unlike something he ever imagined. He applied pressure with his palms, all meanwhile trying to stay hidden. Splinters of wood flew off the column from the impact of the multiple gunshots. James looked over by the side of the elevators where Caleb looked across at him ambiguously.

Caleb revealed himself by looking out from cover, but he was immediately shot at. Overwhelmed, Caleb vanished past the other pair of doors that crossed over into the other half of the mall.

James was devastating after noticing the coward flee into the darkness and reapplied his attention back to his wounded leg. James couldn't believe he returned to help rescue a guy who wouldn't even spare a second for him. Fighting through the pain to stand on his feet, he nearly fell over. To prevent himself from teetering into the open, he momentarily grabbed the angular edge of the column, in which his bloody fingers were almost shot clean off. With his back rested against the wooden column, he already considered himself done for. Throughout his planning, the gunshots stopped and a sharp gasp was heard with the faint sounds of gargled chokes. Looking out through the side of the pillar, James saw the Brother accessorized with a long blade protruding through his chest. The Brother trembled in place and still showed signs of life in his eyeballs. They searched desperately for his slayer and his bloody mouth remained wide open for his silent cries. Swiftly, the blade was retracted from his insides.

His assault rifle fell to the ground beside him and his body thudded to the floor. Unveiled behind him was Caleb. Turns out that he circled around from one doorway to the other. He placed the blade back in his scabbard and kicked away the assault rifle. The Brother wheezed for air,

"K-kill me," he huffed and swallowed weakly, grabbing hold of Caleb's ankle, "K-kill m-me, please."

Caleb vengefully glared at him and pulled away. He calmly approached the assault rifle and picked it up, delivering it to James.

"Damn," James exhaled breathlessly, managing to give a light chuckle through his pain, "I thought you left me for dead."

Using the column as support, he took the assault rifle and placed the sling over his shoulder. Caleb crouched down and toggled on his light, inspecting James' wound.

"It's a clean shot…" Caleb glanced up at him, "That means—"

"I know what it means, let-let's just get the hell out of here, C'mon..." James extended out an arm, hoping that Caleb would aid him to walk but Caleb remained unmoved once he stood up. He watched ambiguously once again. Just when things couldn't get any worse, screams and yells of Infected were heard making their way to their level, "What are you waiting for?!" James waved over with his hands, "Let's go!"

Caleb looked unsettled. His initial plans to stay behind and kill every Brother and Beth was beginning to foil. However, watching James' bloody leg made him begin to rationalize his choices. Caleb stood in silence, staring in the direction in which the noises were coming from as if he were caught in a daydream.

"HEY, C'MON!" James roared.

The Firefly rushed to his side and helped sustain his stance after pushing James off the column. He placed one arm around his waist, whereas James wrapped his arm around Caleb's shoulder. His staggering wasn't nearly as bad as he expected, but James could hear about two Runners incoming from behind and outrunning wasn't an option. Looking over his shoulder to confirm, Caleb actually saw three.

"Go," Caleb said, boldly releasing James.

James continued limping until he also came to a dead end. In his path was a Clicker that flared its arms around wildly after hearing the commotion in the distance. Pulling out his pistol in his back pocket, he fired two shots that nailed the Clicker in the shoulder and stomach. The Clicker slowly fell to the ground with a shortness of breath. James turned around and looked at Caleb who was slaughtering like a professional. With heavy grunts, Caleb slashed at his first Runner, catching a good spot within its neck and all the way down to the clavicle. He yanked it out—having the Runner hold the inflicted area in pain and bleed out to the floor. Attempting to flee, he became surrounded by two other Runners. The Runner behind him nearly jumped at his back, however he did a thrust with his blade over his shoulder. The Runner jumped, head first into the the pointed end and Caleb pulled it out with an immediate jerk. The Runner dropped dead without question. Being occupied by the second Runner got him into trouble with the final. James could see the Runner beginning to pin Caleb up on the same exact column he initially hid behind. Using the katana to separate them, Caleb used all his strength to push off and strike the Runner with the hilt.

James lifted his gun to shoot, but couldn't get a definitive aim. Strangely, as James pointed his gun at them both, he immediately collided with some internal conflict. His thoughts went to a forbidden place he had left a while ago; questioning whether it mattered or not if Caleb was shot dead. Executing Caleb was James' duty to complete since the beginning of his capture. Somehow, he theorized that he was in this current situation because of the Firefly, but if he ended up getting rid of him he would never find survive without him. So James made an oath to himself: He would get his revenge when the time was right.

Caleb placed his sword back into his scabbard and looked away from the dead corpse of the Runner. James concealed his handgun by placing it back in his pocket and looked away, slightly anxious and worried that he might have rose Caleb's suspicions. Without question, Caleb ran towards him after hearing the noises of more men coming their way. Looking outside the windows it was clear that the sun was preparing to set. The skies were a bright orange and the profiles of the clouds darkened as they slowly moved about the atmosphere.

"We should hide, it's getting dark out," Caleb suggested.

James didn't give a response. His gaze was set on the _very_ glass they were looking through. He was the first to notice it when he was previously sneaking around the department, so it was beyond him on how he never realize it any sooner: Quickly hobbling to the windows, James placed his palms on the glass, leaving prints of blood. Astonished, he slowly removed his hands and backed away while pointing. With Caleb close by, he rested a hand on Caleb's side to properly move him aside,

"...Bulletproof…" James babbled.

"What?" Caleb said, not catching what James just said.

"It's not bulletproof!" he clearly repeated. This time reaching back, he removed the pistol from his back pocket.

"What are yo—"

James pulled the trigger three times, and the glass instantly cracked the first time. It expanded the second, but the gun was emptied on its third. It did nothing but cause a great segment to break apart.

"Come on," James said wrapping his arm around Caleb's shoulder.

Caleb refrained himself from being held,

"We can't jump, we're four stories from the ground!"

"There's an awning right before the first level!" James reassured.

Caleb walked to the glass and noticed the awning for himself; it was large and resembled a metal platform, and it could definitely hold up more than one person.

"There they are!" They heard a shout in the distance.

Caleb and James both looked over to see four men with shotguns coming their way,

"Let's go," Caleb rightfully decided.

Running to James side, both boys held on to one another for one another's sake. Starting off with a run after gunshots started to be fired at them, they jumped through the glass, causing it to immediately breakaway once their bodies collided. Caleb shouted as they fell through the air and landed on the metal awning. Caleb landed on both feet, but the recoil from his landing caused him to fall forward. James broke away from Caleb, and held his wounded leg in excruciating pain. He stifled his shouts by sharply inhaling and exhaling, excessively. To make things worse, the awning began to rock back and forth once they landed. Without warning, the awning began to bend and dip downwards into a nearby car. Both boys shouted as they fell along with it and crashed into the vehicle. Glass was shattered and the roof of the car was blown in. Using the awnings position to their advantage, both boys slid off of it and jumped on, then off, the car. With some aid from Caleb once again, James hopped off the car and they both escaped without looking back. Gunshots and yells of hatred were heard from the distance, but merely escaping was more delightful than Caleb thought it would be.

They traveled deeper into the city ruins, making it past a forest of weeds and vegetation that breached the city premises. Eventually making it to a collapsed segment in the street, they walked down the destroyed pavement that led directly into a pipeline. As James tried to catch up to Caleb, he tripped and rolled into the murky water. It was a feeling he couldn't differentiate from drowsiness, but he was growing weak and fatigued from too much blood loss. Just laying there made him feel like he was losing touch with reality. Caleb looked back and pushed through the bodies of water that reached his ankles. Eventually reaching James, he hastily sat him upright,

"Come on!" Caleb shook, "Let's go! Just a couple more steps!"

Being out in natural lighting, James' face was feebly colored,

"J-Just go," James said weakly.

"I-I. No, I can't. Just get up."

"Go…" he said, weakly.

The power in his voice was lost, and he could hear the shouts of Caleb's voice fade as his vision became malformed.

"Come on!"

The distortion of James' vision was off and on and his hearing was completely gone. Gunshots flew overhead as he looked up at Caleb, who was taking heed of the gunshots. James' vision faded to black. Opening his eyes once again, he could see himself being tugged from behind—his legs dragged out in front of him, along the algae pipeline. Finally, his vision faded back to black and didn't recall waking up a moment after that.


	9. Chapter 8 - Albany

**AUTUMN**

* * *

Kneeling down on one knee, Caleb tossed a plaid sweater and some thick jeans into his backpack that rested on the floor beside him. Closing the set of drawers in front of him, he lifted his gas mask and rested it on his forehead while listening closely to some noises downstairs.

Thanks to the carpeted floors, his steps were suppressed. Minutes before he left the room he was in, he withdrew his katana from the scabbard on his back. He pointed it upward as he made his way out of the bedroom and through the corridor. As he lightly walked down the stairs and made it off the final step, he walked further into the room straight across from the staircase. Cautiously scanning the silent room, Caleb jumped as a raccoon ran out into the open. Lowering his guard, he held his chest and let out a sigh of relief. The raccoon sniffed the air and stood on its hind legs. Reaching into the pocket of his recently found sweatshirt cardigan, Caleb pulled out some grapes and rolled it towards the innocent critter. Caleb continued to the open doorway of the house and took in the serene atmosphere of the greenish and orange neighborhood—due to the autumn vegetation. Birds and creatures of all sorts, sang beautiful songs that synchronized with one another like one wild chorus, something that was very pleasant to the human ear.

* * *

Caleb was taking shelter in a fire lookout tower. Reasons were because It was high above grounds and gave him a bird's-eye-view that overlooked the rest of the town. The tower was surrounded by a number of pine trees, and being upstate was much better than being in the city. Breaking out of the thin forest that surrounded the grassy premises, Caleb was surprised to see the body of an Infected laying near the stairs. Walking up to the Clicker, Caleb sighed to himself in frustration. How the corpse remained there was beyond him. He always made sure to drag their bodies back to the woods because once they decomposed, they released spores.

Walking past the body, Caleb quickly made it up the six flights of stairs that twisted up towards the house. Slowing down as he neared the top, he reached the final platform. He circled halfway around the house to reach the entrance. Opening it, he was surprised to see that it was empty. Taken aback, he halted in place and slid his backpack off his shoulders and onto the floor. His eyes searched for another book bag and anything else that didn't belong to him. Although the housing resembled a one room studio with nowhere to even hide, he foolishly called out,

"James?" He said, sounding deadpan as always. He waited for a response, but nothing was heard, "James?" He called once more.

Backing outside from the entrance, Caleb turned and rested both elbows on the steel railings that barricaded the sides. Watching the dead Clicker down below only gave him the idea that James departed early. He gave an exhale and looked back up at the tall pine trees that extended beyond the lawn. He felt safe within the trees that surrounded him. Instead of being another survivor, he felt like he was one with nature. It was difficult for him to put into words, but it was something his mind just felt.

"Caleb?" he heard a voice call out.

His eyes brightened and instantly looked around, hearing the voice come from the same level.

"James?" Caleb responded.

"I'm at the breaker," his distant voice was heard.

Caleb continued on to the final, unchecked side of the tower. Turning the corner, he spotted James messing around with with the circuit breaker. Caleb stared at him without giving any answer or reaction,

"There you are," James said glancing at him momentarily, "I thought I heard…" he grunted mid-way, powerfully trying to switch on the circuit breaker, "I thought I heard you."

Caleb didn't bother answering. Instead, he stood in place and did some gestures the implied him spacing out.

"You alright?" James asked.

Caleb picked his head up.

"Hm?" he finally made up what James said, "Oh. Um, yeah," he pointed back, "I found you some new clothes…"

"What's wrong with what I've got on?" James said.

He was attempting to create some type of humor with Caleb for the first time ever, but he failed _miserably_. Caleb didn't bother cracking a smile just by the mere witness of James' attire and being with him for the past couple of months. Even though certain things could go overlooked in the CBI era, James was in his military uniform for too long he even began to pick up a stench. Changing wasn't the issue; unlike Caleb, James didn't keep up with washing his clothing although it was desperately needed. His trousers were a deep navy, but just below his left calf was practically a darker color because of the stains from his dried blood—even the texture was different. The only thing on his body that remained clean was the cap he always wore backwards.

"Well, the power's out. Only lasted us four days," James said, shutting the circuit breaker and immediately following after.

James entered the house after Caleb and pulled the door shut behind them both. Kneeling, Caleb opened his stained backpack and took out the plaid sweater and jeans he scavenged, keeping it all clutched it all in one hand. Extending his arm backwards, he passed it to James. Catching it with both hands as they were all pressed to his stomach, James peered down in Caleb's bag to see if there were more items and he spotted something green.

"What's that?" he asked, with a small flick of his head, pointing with his chin.

Caleb turned back to his bag and gave a soft scoff. Caleb tried to conceal the discomfort on his face and he reached into his backpack with a pause and spoke,

"What size underwear do you wear?"

"Large," James answered nonchalantly.

Caleb pulled out a pair of green boxer briefs and passed it back to James. Being the carefree person that he was at the moment, James immediately took it and looked at the size,

"You know my underwear size," he joked.

"Just get dressed," Caleb ordered, "Since the power's out now, we've got to go rest up somewhere else."

Without hesitation or the even the slightest consideration, James took of his accessories and unbuttoned his shirt. Furrowing his eyebrows from down below, Caleb awkwardly turned away with his eyes widened. He looked right into his book bag and shuffled around as a distraction. Walking around shirtless was a free feel James hadn't felt in a while, but the current weather didn't allow him to treasure the moment. Taking out a grey undershirt from his backpack, he placed it on. It fairly hugged the muscles all around his torso, which is why it was one of his favorite shirts to begin with, but he had to cover it all with the plaid sweater Caleb got him. Turning back to the new clothes he rested down, he shot Caleb a smirk although he wasn't paying attention at that moment.

Overwhelmed by the situation, Caleb picked up his backpack and and tossed it over his shoulder,

"I'll just wait outside."

"What's wrong?"

"Just giving you some privacy."

Caleb stepped outside, and after a quick couple of minutes, James walked out of the small house and met Caleb right on the other side. He waited beside the door, leaning on the wall with one leg propped up and his hands in his pockets.

"Finished," James said.

Caleb heard him, but was too entranced by the view,

"You know, I don't really like heights…but it's great up here," James raised an eyebrow, startled by his change in attitude. Therefore, Caleb continued, "Ariel would love it up here."

James rested his elbows on the railing and looked back at Caleb, who actually had a bit more undercurrent than he normally presented. It wasn't rendered on his face, but there was something about his eyes that seemed more life-like. The way they stared straight over the trees and into the town seemed free-spirited.

"Who's Ariel?"

"Ariel…" Caleb immediately sealed his lips as the name escaped his mouth a second time. He darted James a look that made him look like a victim of deceit and hastily decided that it would be best to change the topic, "No one. J-just someone back in Boston," he paused and straightened his posture, "How's your leg?"

The mention of Boston made James follow along with the topic as well. He bent down and rolled up the left leg of his jeans, showing that his healing process was doing very well. Although it could still use some more work, he wouldn't let that stop him. Being obsessed with exercise was something that helped him get through his pain and temporary disability. However, it would be a battle scar that would forever remind him of the time back in Boston.

"Doing pretty well," He twisting his leg side to side, "Let's get to Harrisburg."

Caleb paused.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I need to get back home…"

"Don't you need some more rest?" Caleb asked curiously.

James didn't really know him much, but the way he said it almost sounded desperate.

"No, I need to get going."

Without further question, James shoved past Caleb and headed towards the stairs. Although it probably didn't matter it was refreshing to see James in something else other than his previous uniform. Frankly, the uniform brought them both some pretty bad memories, but that was a topic they both kept from each other. James was the first to make it down the stairs with Caleb reluctantly following. They both stepped over the Clicker's body and journeyed through the pine trees that eventually crossed over into the backyard of a tall house and dead end neighborhood. James reached into his back pocket and pulled out the map he packed away back in Massachusetts. Unfolding it about five times, he held it out with both hands against the strong breezes. Using his eyes as a marker, he looked at their current position and determined how long it would take for him to return to Pennsylvania.

"Might take a couple of days, but...it's doable," he folded it back and looked at Caleb who was beside him.

According to James' map, he had just crossed the Hudson River and the boys were finally in Albany. The capitals all looked the same but it was interesting to see how they differed in very minimal ways. Normally, it always consisted of towering buildings that only made you admire their structure and wonder how they were occupied. Caleb could already imagine the hundreds of people that would flood in and out of the doors, daily.

* * *

"We made it," James announced moderately, folding back the map and putting it into his back pocket.

He turned and looked back at Caleb, who did a full 360 turn at his surroundings. There was nothing but a grassy plain that laid between two roads. On those roads were cluttered up cars with rusted exteriors and shattered glasses. The side exits were completely blocked off and were a waste of time to circle around. Right out in front of them, the roads continued to stretch and stretch all the way into a dark tunnel underneath a bridge. Considering that they were only a level below, Caleb spotted a colossal object that overlooked the both of them. It appeared similar to be an upside down dome decorated by speckles of pigeon feces and dying vines along its bottom.

"The hell is that?" Caleb pointed.

"It's um," James snapped his fingers, hoping it would serve as a mechanism to recall every bit of memory he had ever collected from reading magazines. He visualized the stack he possessed in his dorm room, back when he was a teenager, "It's The Egg. I think it's a giant art piece or something like that," he muttered towards the end of the sentence.

"It doesn't even look like an Egg…" Caleb harshly critiqued, "This is Pennsylvania…?" Caleb asked, apparently unconvinced at the quickness. He may have not known much about world landmarks, but he knew about states.

"No, Firefly, we're in Albany…" James continued walking towards the tunnel.

"Don't call me Firefly," Caleb commanded, following after.

"Why not?"

"Because when you say it, it's not coming from a good place."

James groaned, clearly not provoked nor threatened by Caleb's pride. As Caleb opened his mouth once again, James cut him off with a powerful shout,

"LOOK!" his roaring echoed within the tunnel. He did a quick about-face and pushed up against Caleb who began to back up at the sight of James' threatening stance as he approached. Grabbing the neckline of his shirt, James spoke, "Don't...fucking start with me."

Caleb blinked his eyes repeatedly as if James' words were solid. James released him and shoved Caleb back, believing that his message got through. Although his leg wasn't fully healed, he could've fooled anyone with his posture and strut. However, a loud and agonizing snarl was heard coming from the depths of the tunnels, and both boys froze in place to the recognizable alarm. Hastily, they crept deeper into the tunnel, only to find out that it was also a merged parking lot. Turning into one of the paths, they both hid behind a car and listened closely to the multiple Infected that schooled around them. Coincidentally, they both toggled on their flashlights.

"Holy shit, there's so many... " Caleb said, searching everywhere with his eyes.

They were clearly distressed by the overwhelming amount—probably the most they'd seen in months. They both remained crouched and pressed against a random vehicle. With James' closest to the rear he was unaware of the incoming Infected that was roaming back and forth along the tail of the parked vehicles.

"James…" Caleb whispered with a shiver.

James turned around, and immediately let out a shout as the Runner turned and did the exact same on sight. Just as it ran madly towards them, Caleb shot up and and delivered a heavy hack right to its side. A large amount of blood poured out its hip, and its organs were even exposed. The Runner let out a piercing yell and held it's side as it fell to the ground. Keeping his blade wielded out in front of him, Caleb waited for more Infected to come his way since they had all been alerted. They were all heard yelling and coming in from different directions,

"C-come on, let's go, there's too many!" James shouted, reaching forward and pulling Caleb by his arm.

Caleb who was hesitant to even turn his back eventually followed James' and the two beamed towards the exit of the tunnel. Caleb, who was already ahead of James looked back to see that there were only a couple of Infected that was smart enough to detect them. Caleb was the first to make it outside of the parking-tunnel and realized that the road led to another tunnel, but both pathways in each direction were blocked off. James, unintentionally bumped into Caleb's back, nearly tossing them both over. They both grunted and James was the first to realize that they could cut through the freeway's side exit that circle outward toward the side.

Although they were panting like thirsty mutts, they decided to continue running. James reached into his back pocket and pulled out his pistol, firing the gun about two times. The bullet hit one of the Runners in the leg and caused the others to violently topple over it as its body slapped the pavement. The moss covered path led to the main yards of the city that revealed a large fountain that was overgrown with moss and vegetation. Beside it was a glass building, rammed through with cars. To their right, the boys cut through some trees and bushes that led them further away, unto a new road. The road had so many vehicles cluttering the paths that it almost looked deliberate. They basically had no other options but to follow the street they were on; it led downhill, underneath a small bridge that connected to a towering building with very complicated architecture. As James was in the midst of evaluating a way to climb over the barriers, Caleb fixated his eyes on something in the distance...or more so, _someone_.

"James…" Caleb spoke breathlessly, "James," he weakly reached back and patted James' elbow.

"What?" James looked down at Caleb and eventually followed his gaze.

"Look…" Caleb said breathlessly.

Both Caleb and James spotted a person by the towering building, with a large sniper rifle, waving them over. James took a step closer then hesitated to continue.

"Should we go?" Caleb asked, clearly confused.

Just as those words escaped his mouth, more yells were heard nearing behind them.

"We don't have a choice."

Both James and Caleb immediately started sprinted underneath the bridge and the gunman retreated at the sight of them incoming. The boys entered one of the few doorways that weren't barricaded by cars and large blocks of debris. They sealed the doors shut by quickly carrying a heavy, nearby desk and putting it at by the entrance. Most of the tall glass entrances were already broken, so barricading a couple of doors did little to nothing in terms of keeping the unwanted out. However, the unintelligent creatures had difficulty in discovering these issues. Running from the sight of some Runner's just outside, Caleb and James remained pressed up in a thin corner just by the entrance. Eventually, their shouts calmed, and James and Caleb found the opportunity to sneak deeper into the museum without being seen.

Like a ghost, the vanishing stranger that provided them shelter was nowhere to be found.


	10. Chapter 9 - NYS Museum

"Who do you think that person was?" Caleb asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" James replied.

Their voices echoed throughout the institution. Caleb unmounted his angle-head flashlight from his backpack strap and held it within his tense palms. The first couple of ceilings were completely broken apart and nearly missing. He pointed the flashlight upwards as subtle drops of water miraculously dripped down from a couple of stories above. He just hoped it was water to say the very least. From the looks of the marble white building on the outside, one would never guess that the inside of the construct was in complete disarray. It contained a musty smell that reminded you of a dried up fish tank. The large interior felt almost as if it possessed its own atmosphere. Despite being indoors, it was a lot chillier, darker, and the overgrown mold and plants still felt like its own habitat. Vines hung lifelessly from the ceilings and small birds sang as they flew around.

To their left was the east wing's entrance. The doorway was blocked off by a wall of debris, and so was the main lobby. Just behind a large desk was literally a mountain of debris that blocked off the path that continued towards the opposite end of the building. The debris and garbage piled up enough to block off elevators and decimated the escalators that were behind them on each side. James desperately searched for a way around it, and although it could be predicted by anyone, it was impossible to find. Unaware of his surroundings, a large piece of debris fell from above and crashed to the floor about six feet away from him.

"WHOA!" James shouted as he jumped back in fright.

His yell echoed loud enough to grab Caleb's attention, who was focusing elsewhere. Completely taken by surprise, he walked out from behind a corner that extended into another area.

"Everything okay?"

James shined his light upon Caleb's figure and looked back at the rubble scattered on the floor, stunned by what could've been his life. For others, it wasn't a surprise to almost die, especially when you risked your life almost everyday, but getting crushed by excess ceiling was never a common thing.

"Uh, yeah," he looked back up, trying to get a good sight at where the fragment could've fallen from, but his light wasn't powerful enough to extend that far, "That almost crushed me."

"So why are you just standing there?" Caleb asked. His voice faded as he walked back deeper into the west wing and behind another set of walls, "Waiting for another one?"

He was getting used to Caleb's dry sense of humor, and it took him a while to realize that he didn't always need to give a response. However, half of the time when James didn't answer, it was partly because Caleb usually made unarguable points. James softly scoffed and followed Caleb into a thin corridor with only one flickering ceiling light. The corridor held three entrances, two on the left wall and one to the right; just opposite the furthest entrance on the left. Passing the first entrance, James walked straight ahead and turned left into the second passage. Caleb vanished into the first.

According to the signs and charts on the walls, James had entered a theater room. Opposite across from where he entered, was an exit. But before exiting, James took a moment to examine the area. The room was scattered with a few benches, some turned over and some completely broken. James walked over to a sturdy, moderately clean bench and got comfortable. He took off his cap and rested it in his lap, combing most of his oily strands back by running his fingers through. He absentmindedly fiddled with the intruding, tall weeds beside him, and he could hear the overlapping laughter and chatter of children and families. He saw himself among them. Somewhere in the corners was Sid, possibly not as big of an asshole as he was. As one thought led to another, James got flashbacks of Lauren and her laughter. He believed that if he showed her more appreciation, he wouldn't have felt so guilty about her not being around. He gulped and rubbed his pants, drying his sweaty palms after realizing he was clenching the edge of his seat so hard. The present life was a nightmare, and the past was a vision James fantasized about endlessly. Although it might have sounded inhumane, James considered the deceased people of the past lucky for not making it into this mad world. On some occasions, he wished his were one of them. Being on the run was tiresome and it just felt good to just relax. Moving his feet around, James' foot tapped a nearby brick. Reaching down, he picked it up and stretched back until he was able to safely secure it inside his backpack. He stood up and decided to make it out of the other entrance in the room. Unbeknownst to him, the path led into the same area where Caleb neighbored.

Caleb carefully watched his step as he tread over the debris and garbage on the floor. Out of the white and moss colored wastes, a colorful piece of crinkled paper reeled in his attention. Stepping over what appeared to be an overturned table, he bent over and picked up the paper. Shaking the dust off of it, he read the large font listed on the front,

"New York State Museum…" he read, briefly taking his eyes off the paper and staring aimlessly at the dark.

He suddenly became intrigued and picked his head up. Some of the exhibitions were either severely destroyed or covered in piles of junk. And even though the west wing was a lot more spacious, the path to the other side was completely blocked off—some exhibitions being part of the blockade. Making a full 360 turn like an awestruck child, Caleb turned to spot James walking out from the other end of the theater room.

"...Oh," he jumped, giving an exhale of relief, "It's just you."

Deluded by his previous thoughts, James glared at Caleb. Being discreet as he could be, he reached for his back pocket and rested his palm on his pistol. Since Caleb couldn't get a good view from the positions they stood, he watched James suspiciously. James had a hollowed-out look on his face—his gaze was enough to send chills down Caleb's spine, and his wide eyes glistened as he gave a nervous gulp.

"...What?" Caleb whispered. But James didn't answer, "James?"

James blinked a couple of times from the call of his name, almost as if he were broken free from a trance. Backing away, he drifted further into the west wing. Caleb glanced around repeatedly, thinking he was trying to be warned of something behind him. Once he noticed nothing was around, he took cover by the wall that separated him from the theater room and he peered at James' back as he walked deeper into the west wing. He watched his every move.

Little light shined in from the walls and windows at the far end of the exhibition room, but their flashlights were still of value. James stopped walking and stood across from a six foot model of a strange animal with monstrous tusks.

Caleb stepped out from behind the corner and slowly walked towards James. He buried his hands in his pockets and hunched up his shoulders like the introvert military student he possibly was back in preparatory school. Stopping about four feet away from James, he looked straight at the model. The atmosphere, without question, turned really awkward. Nothing was worse than feeling discomfort in a secure area, it contradicted the entire purpose of feeling safe. Caleb looked down at a damaged sign on the ground in front of the model. Making out the words, he repeated it aloud,

"Prehistoric wilderness," he looked back up at the model, "Hm, what's that suppose to be?"

He looked over at James, hoping that the educated ex-soldier would enlighten him. He looked away after a long pause, presuming that he wouldn't answer. Although Caleb took a lot of pride in his street smarts, he had to admire James' intellect. Unlike him, James took the advantage to read a lot of non-fiction.

"It's a mastodon," answered James.

"Looks gnarly, I'd totally ride that thing," Caleb commented, "Quit knowing everything."

James gave a light chuckle, flattered by his half-assed compliment,

"It's written on the wall," he shook his head and walked off.

"Oh…"

James looked beside the model of the animal, and approached a large table that resided a couple of feet away. On the table was a pile of gigantic, dusty, old bones (fossils). Bulleted to the front of the table was an image of the model that the fossils were supposed to be in, which disappointed both of the boys. James let out a heavy sigh and looked at the pile of fossils in complete disappointment.

"People have no respect for the past," Caleb groaned as he circled the table. He stood across from James and they briefly looked at each other.

"I go AWOL, almost get killed, hitchhike with a Firefly, make it to Albany and I still haven't seen anything worth seeing yet," he sighed and leaned on the rusted railing that bordered the table, "If that's the case, I'm better off patrolling inside the quarantine zone."

Caleb fell sheepish during that moment. He painfully processed James' rant of horrors and understood that 'Firefly' stood for him. He was officially apart of James' nightmare and he didn't want to symbolize that, let alone leave that kind of mark in someone's life.

"Anyway, let's find a way out of here and get to Harrisburg...I can't be with you any longer," James finally commented, preparing to leave.

"Why?" Caleb asked. James stopped in his tracks, and looked at Caleb who shrugged his shoulders while slightly lifting his arms from his sides in question, "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Saying what?"

"That you'can't be around me any longer'? What's that supposed to mean?" He may had been too dignified to confess, but Caleb felt offended.

"I'm sorry, but did you forget what you did?" James responded in disbelief

Caleb turned away and paced back and forth before throwing his arms in the air in frustration,

" _Yes!_ I know what I did! B-but–!"

"But nothing! Because of you, I'm a suspect!"

"Because of _me_?" he narrowed his eyes, "Are you sure that ceiling didn't fall on your head? Did the cultists slip your fucking mind?" James paused. Once he realized that he wasn't getting a response from him, Caleb continued, "You were ordered to kill me, but when we escaped the ceremony, you decided to let me live and leave Boston with me!" He returned to his questioning gesture, "Why?"

James aggressively turned his cap to the front and let the visor lowly shield the top of his face. He crossed his arms and turned away, feeling guilt build up in the pit of his gut. He remembered the true reason why he couldn't return back to Boston, but constantly blamed it on Caleb because he was completely oblivious to it all. If Caleb believed it was truly his fault, James could project the guilt on him and find it easier to forget. Ultimately, it would lessen the blow. He couldn't explain to Caleb that his own Captain wanted him dead, because it would be all the proof that Caleb needed. He respected himself too much to validate the a Firefly's beliefs and ambush.

"I don't need to explain shit to you," James spat.

Shifting gears into his notorious walk, James stomped away in anger to avoid hearing any more of Caleb's blabbering. The only way Caleb could retaliate was rolling his eyes in frustration and touching his forehead. He walked away and headed back to the corridor they were previously in, which was the opposite direction that James headed.

"You give me a fucking headache," Caleb spat before exiting the exhibition room.

"Oh yeah!?" James shouted, "Well you–!" unable to insult on his feet like Caleb, he turned away and left the situation alone.

* * *

Minutes later, James' temper cooled off. He sat in the theater room for a couple of minutes, slouched up against the wall. He made his way back to the thin corridor that stretched from the lobby. Entering the final passageway that the corridor possessed, he spotted Caleb from afar, who was loitering for the past half an hour. He sat on the floor, legs crossed, with his exposed katana resting in his lap. Closely approaching the doorway, it wasn't hard to notice that a huge fragment of the ceiling had collapsed, but in a slope-like angle.

"You ready?"

Caleb looked up, surprised. His eyes looked filled with more anguish than usual. It took him a while before he could answer,

"Yep," he groaned as he stood to his feet and properly equipped himself, "This is our way to the second floor."

The fallen ceiling didn't make the perfect ramp, therefore, Caleb had to do most of the work in scaling the wall and jumping to haul himself up to the second floor. Unlike the first floor, the second floor wasn't a museum and the ceilings were lower. It possessed a long hallway that stretched endlessly from his end to the other, with multiple doors and lockers spread on both sides.

Enhancing Caleb's technique, James took a running start for him to run up the inclined ceiling and jumped up to grab the very edge of the floor. He failed the first couple of times, and finally grabbed hold on his sixth attempt. However, the fallen ceiling they were constantly walking on gave way and immediately fell apart after taking so much abuse. The drop down was quite a fall and if James happened to slip, he could kiss his legs goodbye.

"Caleb! Caleb! Caleb!" James panicked.

The more he panicked, the sweatier he got, and the sweatier he got, the more his fingers began to lose friction. Caleb walked to the edge and wrapped his hands around James' wrist and forearm. He pulled with all his might, giving James the chance to haul his powerful legs over. After one last successful pull, James rolled over on his back and laid on the floor. He wiped his forehead and rested one arm underneath his head for support. His torso slowly rose and fell. Turning his head to the side, he looked up at Caleb who immediately turned away and began to venture deeper into the second level. James opened his mouth to speak,

"Than–" he paused, realizing that Caleb was purposely walking out of range. So he spoke louder in order to be heard, "Thank you!" James swiftly stood up and quickly paced after Caleb, "I was thanking you."

"You're welcome," Caleb replied dryly.

James slowed down after being proven that trying to keep up with the Firefly was pointless. Before Caleb could take another step, James rested his hand on his shoulder,

"Look, j-just stop,"

Caleb let out a frustrated groan, nearly rolling his eyes into the back of his skull. If there was anything that both boys were better at than working together, it was arguing; and there was never a day that went by that the foes didn't. Admittedly, Caleb's expression was regularly lackluster, but after spending more than a few months with him, it was easier to decipher his undercover frame of mind. As if he were getting over stage fright, James inhaled and exhaled before speaking,

"I wanna apologize for what happened earlier," Caleb lowered his defense and crossed his arms, listening closely, "I thought about what you said down there and you were right. The entire thing isn't your fault."

Caleb dipped his hands back into his pockets and nodded in approval,

"That's good enough. I accept."

James smiled and gave a small chuckle. He reached up for the visor of his cap and turned it backwards. He would've preferred a different response, but it was a start. James walked passed Caleb and continued to lead like the very beginning. Both of their footsteps were heard on the hard textured floors, as ambient echoes bounced off the lockers and walls. Caleb decided to take accountability for his own actions as well,

"Well, I can't let you have all the glory," Caleb plainly admitted, "I know I'm probably nothing but a stupid Firefly to you but..." He noticed James briefly look over his shoulder. Although it might have been a seen as a joke at first, it would eventually come from a genuine place, "When we get you back to Harrisburg, I understand we'll go our separate ways, and everything will go back to normal...normal for you at least," James showed signs of listening, but couldn't bear to look at him bringing up such a sensitive topic, "It probably won't make much of a difference...but I really appreciate you for not killing me," Caleb sighed, "And for what it's worth, I'm really sorry for what happened back in Boston…"

James gave a soft chuckle, a reaction Caleb didn't expect,

"You helped me out a lot after that, uh..." James played with his cap, "That...ceremony back in Boston—don't think it would be fair to kill you." Caleb didn't answer, "I can't forgive what you did...but the least I can do is let you walk," he abruptly turned and faced Caleb. He looked down at him since he was only a few inches smaller, "But that's gotta stay between you and me, alright?"

Caleb figured that asking for forgiveness was a little too extreme, but it felt good to take it off of his chest. He nodded in agreement to the truce and the pair stared at each other for a brief moment. Believe it or not, it was actually a sign of improvement considering that they couldn't stomach looking at other for more than a second unless it involved a dispute.

James returned his attention back to the hallway, and couldn't understand why the second floor looked more like a school or office building instead of a museum,

"So where's all the exhibitions on this floor?"

"It continues on the fourth floor. The second and third floor isn't accessible by the public."

"Oh yeah? How do you know?" James asked.

James confidently walked up to a door on the left of the hallway, hoping to see more exhibitions. He twisted the doorknob, only to learn that it was locked. Tightly holding the doorknob, James decided to use brute strength to open it. Veins popped out his arms, using his husky shoulder and arm to repeatedly ram into the door. So much for James' showing off, a loud ram was returned back to James from the other side of the door and powerfully repelled him from the door. His boots squeaked against the floors as he maintained his stance. The wooden door frame cracked in multiple places, and a deep, screeching croak escaped from the inside. Caleb ran past the doorway and tugged James by his elbow, pulling him deeper into the hallway,

"Pamphlet…" Caleb answered James' question. While frightened, he slapped the pamphlet on James' chest without taking his eyes off the roaring door.

"...Oh," James responded, grabbing it.

He too, kept his eyes pinned on the door. Small specs of rubble fell from the ceiling. Each time the door was slammed, the boys gave an involuntary jerk, startled by the noises of this particular Infected. Instantly, the door was broken through. It's croaks were deeper and louder than the average Clicker, but something about it felt different. Through a flurry of spores and debris that swarmed out the room, a heavyset silhouette emerged out of the cloud, revealing a Bloater.

"Oh shit! Run!" James demanded.

Taking off, Caleb followed after him and they both ran deeper into the second level. As usual, the predator chased right after them.

* * *

The hallway felt like it stretched on forever. Caleb and James both ran deeper into the hallway as the Bloater pursued them. James turned and fired about five shots. He either missed or the bullets had no effect, but he was too hysterical to pay attention. The jar head pulled the trigger once more and realized that his pistol was emptied by his irrational shooting.

The Bloater was protected by plates of fungus, and it threw strange sacs that exploded a toxic gas on impact. If there was anything Caleb learned from facing Infected, it was to never look back once they pursued you; and James was the living example of what not to do. Thankfully, they could outrun the Bloater since it lacked speed, however, the sacs and strength made up for it. This wasn't Caleb's first time facing a Bloater, so he knew exactly what to expect. James, on the other hand, didn't seem so experienced despite being a soldier who vowed to serve and protect.

The doors in the hallways were either barricaded by stacks of heavy furniture or sealed shut from the insides. Having only a couple of doors left before they reached the end of the hallway, both boys sweated profusely at this point. Caleb slipped to the ground, feeling incredibly fatigued. The drain was beginning to show since they hadn't slept and eaten very much in the past few days. He was best at shoving that kind of stuff to the side, but it was beginning to take a toll. He held his stomach as he began to feel sharp cramps. James knelt to the ground beside him and held his arm,

"Come on, let's go."

Interlocking arms to help Caleb to his feet, a bright light shined in from the direction they were going down. The boys squinted their eyes and the light became brighter as they heard footsteps inch towards them. The flashlight eventually steered elsewhere and, out of the light, came the stranger that they had been looking for all along—the stranger that initially lured them into the museum when they were in danger. The person had just came out of an unlocked room. They were dressed, in what resembled a flowing beige cloak that reached their ankles. However, their face was entirely covered, and they wore brown gloves and a pair of goggles to protect the small space that their eyes peered out of. The person pointed back at the doorway, directing James and Caleb to take cover. Seeing that the boys were hesitant, the stranger began to point more aggressively. The boys would've looked for a reason to rebel, but the raging Bloater made them pick their battles more wisely. Both clumsily made it to their feet and rushed to the doorway.

Looking out from behind the door, they watched the stranger set up a sniper rifle on the floor. They laid flatly on the floor and looked right through the scope, firing one powerful shot at bloater. It didn't die but it let out a deafening scream before it could locate where the gunshot came from. The gunman fired a second shot with finesse, and the Infected's screams were cut short. It was seen in the distance, falling to the ground. After the Bloater was declared dead, the person stood up and nonchalantly dusted themselves off like finishing a day's work. Slowly, the person turned around and casually walked back to the room they exited from.

James retreated and quickly pushed himself along with Caleb deeper into the room before they could be spotted spying on the deadly shooter. The covered up stranger became visible as they sauntered at the opening of the doorway. James pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the entrance. A drop of sweat escaped from the scalp of his head after remembering that his handgun was emptied. He didn't budge or show one change in his expression to give that away.

"Stay right there!" he shouted.

"James…" Caleb said, attempting to help him think rationally. He placed his hand on James' wrist and tried to lower his gun, "James, not now, they just saved us…"

The stranger placed their rifle down against an overturned trash bin and reached up to push up their goggles. They removed the wrappings around the lower half of their face, revealing their lips first and eventually their eyes. However, a scarf remained wrapped around the top of their head. Revealed underneath the coverings was a girl with a very feminine, square-shaped face. Her eyes were dark brown, and her lips were somewhat thin—the top being much thinner. She had an olive skin tone and possessed thick eyebrows that beautifully defined her face.

"Is that how you thank someone who saved your life?" She placed a fist on her hip and put her weight on one leg, " _Twice?_ "

She had a vague accent.

"I actually second that comment…" Caleb supported.

James shot him an pestered stare and Caleb walked off into the corner of the room as if something else had grabbed his attention. James still had his pistol pointed at the young woman, and he looked at the gun, sort of displeased with how programmed he actually was.

"I'm sorry...I'm a military soldier," he said, hoping she would take that as an excuse.

"From here?" She asked as she took a step forward.

A sudden spark of interest appeared in her eyes and it almost looked desperate.

"Boston..." James replied, cautiously taking a step back.

"Then what are you doing out here?" she replied, silently closing the door behind her.

"We were hoping there was a quarantine zone out here…" Caleb joined in.

She gave, what sounded like, a sigh of desperation. She remained silent for a couple of seconds. The girl was clearly deep in thought and she looked back at James as if she had just returned from a vision of nightmares,

"I'm from that zone," she paused and looked to the side, "Well...was."

"Was?" James repeated just to clarify.

She nodded. From the unsure look on her face, James could tell that a 'but' was going to come afterward. Caleb watched their discussion take place by standing a couple of feet away from both of them.

"It was taken over by slavers a couple of weeks ago. They chased out all of the military soldiers and started putting some of the remaining people to work for them."

"Slavers…?" James asked, sounding horrified.

"Yes. They're west of here and not too far. We're lucky we haven't been seen yet."

"Then why haven't you left the city?" Caleb asked.

"Trust me. I have a good reason."

Caleb didn't bother questioning it since it was none of his business. All three stood still while thinking to themselves in an awkward silence. It was until Caleb's stomach growl broke the silence that the girl decided to finally speak up.

"I'm guessing you both are hungry?"

"What gave it away?" James joked.

He gave a light chuckle and looked back at Caleb, who didn't bother giving eye contact nor crack a smile. Another failure.

Respectively, the girl was kind enough to give a genuine grin. She could already notice that James was the polar opposite of his comrade. The girl backed away from the boys and grabbed her sniper rifle that was very tall compared to her. She tossed the sling of the firearm over her shoulder and walked towards another exit in the room. It didn't even occur to the boys that were was another doorway because they were too invested in her rescue. Grabbing the doorknob, she looked back before turning it.

"I'm Olivia by the way."

* * *

With the help of Olivia's quick wit and familiarity with the location, the trio were able to safely make it out alive from the second floor. They slipped through random cracks within rooms and slid down hills of rubble that led both boys back to the first level. They were finally on the side they were trying to reach all along. Just before they exited, she warned for them to all be quick on their feet, because they weren't too far from the overthrown quarantine zone. Lastly, Olivia opened her mouth and gave a warning that almost sounded like an urban legend: To look out for men on horses. Once they spotted you, you belonged to them.

The travel with Olivia was fairly long, but it was clear that they didn't leave the city. The only risk about the whole travel was having to cut through the territories of the slavers. Of course, there weren't enough to take control of the entire quarantine zone, but there was enough to get a good handful of people, so they were in the clear for the time being.

Caleb was growing impatient and irritated during the travel. He was exhausted and just wanted a good time to eat and rest. He felt like he was babysitting James for all of these months and Olivia finally came to relieve him of his duty. Finally, the words Caleb waited for spoke from Olivia's mouth,

"We're here."

These apartments weren't like the ones back in Boston. They almost resembled small, two story houses that were connected to one another. Despite being unattended to in years, they were still in pretty good condition. There were about four doorways, each leading into its own place. The trio partially split up as they walked around a wild forest of weeds. They met up on the other end and Olivia led them to an old door with a dying red color. Much to their surprise, the door was already left ajar.

"You just leave your place open like that?" James asked.

"No…" Olivia replied with horror. Olivia proceeded to bum rushed into the door and tossed it open. James and Caleb looked at each other in surprise and exchanged glares of question. They were now on the offense and James had his hand rested on his empty pistol. They heard vigorous shuffling and things being overturned and broken. Olivia's distressed breathing could be heard from the entrance, "Oh my god…" she said as light sobs escaped her.

James confidently stood straight and carefully peered into the room by only sticking his head inside the interior. It wasn't that large of a living space, so Olivia was in clear view. She was sitting on the couch in a state of torment. She was using her arms to hold her head up and claw her head wrap.

"What happened?" James asked.

Olivia was so far into her condition that she jumped at the sound of James voice. It was like she completely forgot about being accompanied by two men. Caleb entered the room behind James and looked at the woman in curiosity.

Eventually, James and Caleb followed Olivia out of the house. She just stood around, completely out of her zone. She was staring into space and anxiously biting and picking at her nails.

"Can you just tell us what going on?" Caleb asked candidly.

Olivia figured it would be best to not make them lose their trust in her, so she did what she was told,

"I-I have a friend."

"A friend?" James stepped in. He rested his hand on Caleb's chest, slowly pushing him back, "Don't you think you should've told us that _before_ we followed you?"

"It's not what you think…" Olivia said, "Remember when I told you that I had a good reason for not leaving?"

Before either could even get a chance to reply, a young voice was heard behind them,

"Olivia?"

Olivia looked over the shoulders of both James and Caleb and noticed a young boy only a couple of doors down from her apartment. She dropped the sniper rifle and dashed to the doorway. Once she reached him, she dropped to his height and hugged him. She released him and held his shoulders, staring deep into his eyes.

"Mikey, you have to stop doing that and stay in one place!" she ordered.

While groaning, she examined his body. She lifted his arms and checked his ankles for any notable scratches or bites. She looked into his face one last time,

"Are you hurt?"

"No…" Mikey replied.

A soft smile appeared on Olivia's face and she pulled him back in for one final hug. Mikey possessed an aura of an innocent spirit, and his face was genuinely confused as to what Olivia was probably worrying about. He softly pushed off of her and looked at her,

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

Olivia gave a soft chuckle,

"You just scared me, that's all."

"I was hungry so I went looking for food in the other houses."

Olivia sighed and looked away momentarily. She stood up on both feet and looked down at her smaller partner. Opening up her palm, little Mikey reached up and held her hand.

"Who are they?" Mikey asked, pointing towards James and Caleb.

Olivia hesitated,

"They'll be staying with us for a little while."

* * *

Although they necessarily never had one, James and Caleb were treated kind enough to feel like they were at home. Olivia found a bunch of canned beans left in the cupboards down in the basement. She brought four cans up for each of them, and all there was left to do was roast them over an indoor fire. Caleb and James sat beside one another on a torn up love-seat sofa. Caleb kept readjusting himself because he could feel a spring digging underneath his thigh. Once he got comfortable, they looked at little Mikey who sat across from them in the living room.

Mikey wore a green cap, blue sweatpants, and a regular grey shirt with the graphic of an old cartoon he probably never knew about. Mikey was your average kid, probably sheltered for too long. He was a lot more untroubled than Caleb ever remembered himself being. He was closest to the entrance and slouched in a stained sofa chair, staring back at the peculiar swordsman and US soldier. Caleb awkwardly looked away, staring at the ground.

"What are your names?" Mikey's high voiced asked.

"My name's James," James instantly answered with a giant smile.

Caleb was going to remain silent in hopes that James would introduce him. He didn't find it important to introduce himself to a child, but found it wrong to ignore Mikey's innocence and likability. Besides, James knocked his knee with his own after noticing the reaction.

"Caleb," he replied softly.

"I'm Mikey," he replied, revealing two front missing teeth, "I'm seven, how old are you guys?"

"Mikey…" Olivia spoke from the kitchen.

Mikey knew that was his signal to stop talking so much. He knew that it could get himself into trouble, especially if these were bad people, but he also knew Olivia would never let bad people into their house. In that case, Mikey decided to whisper. He noticed a long contraption along Caleb's back, it was something he had never seen before.

"What's that?" he whispered softly pointing, "On your back. Is it a gun?"

Caleb shook his head and began speaking,

"It's a-"

"Shh!" Mikey said, putting his finger to his lips.

He knew his Olivia could still hear them, but for the sake of the child, Caleb played along.

"It's a sword."

"Coooool," Mikey exclaimed with his eyes smiling in sync with his mouth, "I never saw anyone use a sword before. Can I see it?"

"Maybe later," Caleb replied with a genuine whisper.

All Caleb could do was smirk back and look away. It was hard to admit, the but kid _was_ pretty adorable. Mikey looked over at James and noticed that he had a big assault rifle slung over his shoulders and rested along his back with his backpack. Despite Mikey appearing innocent, he was only considered innocent by this world's standards. He recognized a gun when he saw one, and he proceeded to point at it,

"Where'd you get that?"

"Get what?" James asked.

"The gun."

James was hesitant of answering, but he knew that the Mikey's time would come eventually. It was inevitable to not put a gun in a child's hand. He had to learn to protect himself sooner or later.

"I worked with the army in Boston."

The change in Mikey's demeanor was so sudden that the tension in the room immediately became thick. He fell silent and even fell back in his chair, almost like he was petrified by a monster. Of course it wasn't something they both suspected, so Caleb looked on just as confused with an eyebrow raised. Mikey slid out of his chair and disappeared into the other room with Olivia.

James looked at Caleb and lifted his palms up with a shrug,

"W-what'd I say?"

All Caleb could do was sit back in his seat and shrug. All he wanted to do was eat and catch up on some rest. Maybe things would make more sense.


	11. Chapter 10 - Shoprite

Overtime, everyone finished eating their meals. Their dinner consisted of heated baked beans and slices of bread. Admittedly, Caleb thought it sounded repulsive but realized that it actually tasted a lot better than it looked. Since the skies were getting dark and the streets were becoming more dangerous, little Mikey was already asleep down in the basement. Olivia was returning from tucking him into his sleeping bag and promised that she would return later. Entering the candle lit living room, she sat in a sofa across from James and Caleb–who hadn't moved a muscle since they arrived. Hearing that James didn't move a muscle would have been revolutionary to anyone in his old base.

"Thank you…" James said."

"Yeah," Caleb nervously added, "Thanks for everything. Your help. The food."

"You're welcome," Olivia paused, "I'd be lying if I told you I thought you were from my quarantine zone, but you guys are okay too" she contently added. After taking a sip of water, she stopped speaking for a while and took their differences into account for her next question, "How do you two know each other?"

James and Caleb silently looked at each other and looked back at Olivia. She noticed their reaction, but didn't bother calling it out. James opened his mouth to speak first, but closed it after expecting Caleb to speak. Finally, Caleb spoke with a jitter, but it was such a mellow variation,

"We're both soldiers from Boston."

"Oh, that's right," she leaned back and thought back when they all first met, "You guys never told me what you were doing in Albany."

The tension in the room grew thick again, able to be cut with Caleb's sword.

"Boston was ambushed," James answered bitterly in no time.

Caleb's body language changed completely, and he rested his elbow on the arm of the sofa and rested his head in his palm to hold his head up. He stared directly at the floor, hoping that this wouldn't resume their hostility towards one another. If Olivia knew the truth about them, it was unimaginable how she would change towards him. It probably would've made her go wild if she knew she had risked Mikey's safety and had two, so-called, 'fugitives' around him.

"Seems like that's been happening a lot recently," Olivia said.

"What about you? Tell us about your zone…" James said.

Olivia exhaled as if it took all the strength in her to even think about it. She brought her palms together and folded them in her lap. By her reaction, both James and Caleb could tell this was going to be painful candle-fire story.

"It happened about four weeks ago, it's been nearly a month now. The first thing I can remember was being in room with my roommate and hearing gunshots outside," Images played out in all of their heads, more vividly in Olivia's, "I looked out my window and we saw a group of guys come in on horses and shoot up the entire place."

"No one fought back?" Caleb asked.

"Since they don't allow weapons in the quarantine zone, we couldn't. Not one person had a gun," she closed her eyes and shook her head, "The worst part is the military...the _military_!" she gave a sickened look, "They were already gone by the time these people came in. Nowhere to be found."

"Bullshit. That's not true," James rudely said, fixing his posture and sitting more erect.

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows and her provoking eyes burned through him,

"Why not?"

"The military would never do that."

"Believe it or not, they did!" she said, slightly raising her voice, "Besides leaving us to die, they've done terrible things to people. They pushed us around and we were running low on our rations. They didn't even want to feed us!"

"Good thing we aren't like that, right James?" Caleb asked sarcastically.

Besides abusing the civilians with their power, Caleb did recall a few situations that involved rations and the people. He's even seen people killed in cold blood because they did as much as stare or bump into an officer. He continued to give a smug look at James, who could do nothing but glare right back at him. James, however, faltered back into his seat and didn't bother arguing. Olivia carried on with her story even though she figured that both the boys might have something to say, but she just fed them, and she'd throw it in their faces if she had to,

"I managed to escape with my roommate, but…" her lips began trembling and she began to fidget with her fingers, "Someone killed her and that's when I had to keep on running. Then that's when I came across Michael—he was out in the rain and he was dirty, alone, and cold...so I started to take care of him,"

It didn't show much on his face, but Caleb could empathize with Olivia and could understand where she was coming from. He might sound like a hypocrite, but fuck, he was sentenced to execution. The reasons he helped the Fireflies attack the zones were never to hurt people. On the contrary, it was suppose to help liberate the civilians and send a message to the corrupted military. He told James that plenty of times, but it wasn't easy convincing. Besides, he was sure that James had his own agenda to follow too.

"Does he have a family?" Caleb asked.

"He's an orphan,"

Although James had his head down, he looked up at the sound of those words.

"I know it sounds pretty messed up, but at least the kid had no one to lose," Olivia added, "But now he's got me…"

"That's why you have to leave…" James suggested.

"And go where?" she replied, scratching the roots of her hairline, "Nowhere is safe."James couldn't respond because she definitely wasn't lying and it sounded like there was no changing her mind. She scoffed and rested her head back, "I'm going to bed. There's an apartment to the right of here that's unlocked. Go get some rest in there and Mikey and I will say our farewells in the morning."

"Alright…" James groaned as he stood up.

"Goodnight," Olivia said. She leaned forward and blew out the candle on the wooden center table.

* * *

The apartment that Olivia was referring to was the same apartment that Mikey was hiding in earlier that afternoon. Since it was less tended to, it wasn't nearly as neat as Olivia's living space. Having flashlights to their aid, the boys could get a full view of the musty interior. The walls had holes beaten into them, the wallpapers were torn by great patches, there was practically no furniture, and there were dry animal droppings on the carpets. Caleb stood beside a shattered window, hearing the excess glass crunch beneath his shoes. His eyes scanned the floors, searching for a spot they could rest on without smelling like shit.

"How the hell are we sleeping in this?"

"We've slept in worse," James said optimistically.

"Worse than shit…?" Caleb remarked with an attitude.

Without further notice, James left Caleb behind and ventured deeper into the house. Since it wasn't that big of a place, James found something incredibly useful in a matter of minutes.

"Caleb!" he called out, "Come here!"

Caleb followed his voice and was immediately led into a dusty, old room. He walked in on James looking at himself in a fully intact mirror,

"Holy fuck, I need to shave…" James paused and ran his fingers along his cheeks.

Caleb entered the room, stepping over large pieces of fallen wood. He stood beside James and looked at himself as well. Caleb was thankful to have no black eyes and no swollen bruises—completely healed. Compared to James, his stubble was coarser with a sparse mustache over his full lips.

"We need sleep…" Caleb muttered.

He looked closer and saw notable bags underneath both of their bloodshot eyes. They could blend in with some Runners if they wanted. Closely staring at every aspect pf his face a little longer than normal, he tensely pulled himself away.

"Um..." He blinked repeatedly and looked away as if he was bothered by something, "Is this what you wanted to show me?"

James shook his head and pointed back at a bed frame with a queen sized mattress within the room. He suggested, that with Caleb's help, they could carry the mattress down into the basement and sleep there since it was much safer. Since they were exhausted, they didn't waste any time in getting the mattress down the flight of stairs. Much to their surprise, the basement wasn't nearly as filthy as the main floor. There were cobwebs here and there, but that was simply overlooked. After finding a good spot, they dropped the mattress unto the floor and caused a wave of dust to fly into their faces. They both backed up and coughed. Just as Caleb fanned the air, his eyes caught something buried deep in the corner of the room: An old lantern.

Sharing a room with another soldier wasn't something completely new to them, it was just that bunking meant sleeping on different beds. In this particular case, it was you either slept on the mattress or the cold hard floor.

They put good use to some old curtains since they couldn't find any sheets, and they layered the mattress with them to use another pair as blankets.

"Just make sure you don't kick me,"

"I won't, James, stop telling me th–what are you doing?!" As they both sat on the mattress, Caleb paused as James unbuttoned and removed his shirts.

"What?" James said, stretching out his arms high into the air.

"Now's not the best time to sleep shirtless."

"Look, I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't slept on a warm mattress in a very long time," he said getting comfortable.

"What if it has bugs?" Caleb asked, eyeballing him.

"You know what? I know why you get like that when you see me with my shirt off,"

Caleb's nostrils flared and he narrowed his eyes before speaking,

"First at the fire tower, now here," James teased as he folded up his plaid shirt.

"Why, James?"

"Because you're jealous of my body."

Caleb was built as well, but slightly slimmer. He was more defined and just had a smaller frame with a broad chest and shoulders.

"Jealous?" Caleb pointed at himself in disbelief, "Of your body?"

James nodded as if he had just cracked a case. It might have seemed like an argument at first, but James' smile signaled that he was portraying his more playful side. It showed great improvement with their time together and more depth to his immature personality. It was probably missed multiple times, but James made humorous jokes all the time just to lighten the mood. But Caleb had to cut it short. As usual, nothing could get him to smirk for too long, but he also managed to not come across as too toxic,

"Just rest your head on one end and I'll rest mine on the other…and I'll turn around so I won't have to look your feet all night. Keep them far away from me."

"Deal," James smiled with a soft nod, "As long as you don't fart."

"James…Really?"

"Sorry," he snorted.

Caleb looked away and took off his boots. Removing his large cardigan sweatshirt, he used it as a blanket to cover his thighs and upper body. Just as he laid on his side and closed his eyes, he heard James' voice,

"Before you go to bed, I have a question: What did you think about Olivia's story?"

"What's there to think…?" Caleb mumbled with his eyes closed.

"It's just that, all that shit she said about the military treating them like crap and leaving them for dead...it can't be true, can it?" he asked, genuinely curious.

The fact that he was even being doubtful about his fellow brothers and sisters said more than enough. It was actually progress in Caleb's eyes.

"Who knows, maybe that explains why Mikey reacted that way in the living room after you told him you were in the military," Caleb said bluntly.

He tried keeping his eyes shut, but he was becoming more unnerved by the silence he received from James. Turn his head to the side, he looked at James who was staring into space with a genuine look uncertainty and self-doubt. It was a quick change in his attitude and Caleb could admit that he took it a little too far. He planned on keeping that theory to himself. He was just too tired to control what came out of his mouth. He planned to clear the atmosphere and sat up. He showed a vulnerable side that James would be seeing for the first and last time.

"James…" he sighed and dipped his head downward, glancing up at him, "Don't worry about it. It's none of our business anyway. Look, we'll be back on the road to Harrisburg tomorrow morning and you'll get back home in no time…"

He reluctantly extended his arm forward and patted James' hand,

"You're a good soldier, and others can learn a thing or two from you, alright?"

James nodded in silence, but was taken aback by Caleb's sudden affection. He didn't make it obvious, though.

"Now try and catch some Z's. You get all irritating when you're tired."

"Apparently you become nicer."

"Shutup…" Caleb groaned, resting his head back down on the mattress and closing his eyes.

James settled into his mattress and looked at his healing leg. He returned his gaze directly at Caleb and stared for an awfully long time. He understood that he formed a temporary truce with the Firefly, but their truce was swelling into an acquaintanceship as a side effect. James predicted it would happen eventually, but he didn't think they would be paired together for this long. Recently, he's felt the need to learn more about Caleb and it was embarrassing to even think about.

During that cult ceremony in Boston, it was already established that they stood better chances of surviving together. However, James was only swallowing his pride that day and took advantage of Caleb. When you've just been shot in the leg, learn that your own captain wants you dead, and are being hunted by a bunch of cultists–you don't have many choices. Truthfully, After James found out that Captain Wells wanted him dead, he just wanted to flee the state and begin anew somewhere else. He thought about Harrisburg, and how it would be the best place to continue living as a soldier. It was his old home, and James believed that whatever happened in Boston, would stay in Boston. He knew word wouldn't get out to any other zones about the ambush—it was impossible. To get what he wanted, he promised Caleb his freedom if he helped get him to Harrisburg for 'confidential reasons'...of course that was a load of bullshit. All Caleb wanted to do was walk away alive from all of this, even if it meant delivering a soldier Little did he know, that was a lie too. James planned on turning him once they reached Harrisburg, but it was becoming harder to do—almost damn-near impossible.

James had time to step back and look at the bigger picture; Caleb always had the choice to look the other way...but he didn't. There was so much that each did to keep each other alive since then. That's when James finally realized he was no different than the soldiers in Olivia's story: Dark, twisted, and manipulative.

He had to end this somehow. Finally, he broke his lingering stare and rubbed his eyes free of the sensation one would feel before they cried. He reached back to blow out the lantern that was a couple of feet away from their bed and tucked himself in. Before he knew it, they were both out cold.

* * *

James heard some tapping noises the next morning. He peeked through a half-opened eye as he slowly woke up and searched around for the source of the noise. Craning his head upward, he saw a notable figure just outside the basement window. He used his knee to knock Caleb in his side in order to silently wake him up. Caleb groaned and swatted his arm back to deliver a stinging slap to James' side, warning to leave him alone. James clenched his teeth and let out a silent whine of pain.

"Caleb!" James kicked again.

Since Caleb was already sleeping at the edge of the mattress, the final kick was enough to send him over the edge. He had no choice but to wake up, and he was extremely dazed after having the best sleep he's had in weeks. He groaned even louder through his teeth. He fixed his posture and put himself back on the bed,

"What?!" he growled sharply.

"Someone knows we're in here" James replied, "Get ready…"

"Get ready...?" Caleb squinted his eyes and took a closer look at the basement window for about five seconds. He sucked his teeth and looked back at James with annoyance. He threw he head back on the mattress and tossed the hooded cardigan over his face, "It's Olivia," he said, sounding muffled.

James looked back and could see that it was definitely Olivia upon second glance,

"Oh…"

James climbed out of bed and made it up to the first floor. He made sure to put his shoes on to avoid stepping in any balls of shit scattered in the room. Before getting to the doorway, James pushed away a large dresser he used to barricade the entrance. Keeping the door chain attached, he slightly opened the door and looked at Olivia with his dreary looking eyes. The early rays of the sunlight didn't make things any more pleasant,

"Hi," James said, voice still drowsy.

"Hey...James," Olivia sized up James and her face flushed from embarrassment at the sight of his partial nudity, "Did I interrupt anything?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Interrupt? What would you be interrupting?"

She made small gestures with her pointer finger and spoke,

"Weren't you and Caleb…?"

James didn't reply. He raised his eyebrows and was calmly waiting for her to finish her sentence. He was eager to hear what she had to say next.

"Never mind."

Suddenly, Olivia turned around without exchanging any more words and walked back to her apartment door which was straight across from James' doorway. She closed the door, avoiding to make any eye contact with James. James closed his door and rested on it in before walking away in curiosity. _What the hell?_

After catching up on the rest of their sleep, James and Caleb prepared to leave and hit the road again. Always having to get up and go was becoming a bit frustrating for Caleb. He would've appreciated it a little more if they would have camped in a little while longer, but he kept his opinions to himself. Becoming an obstacle for James' was basically begging for a quarrel. Not to mention, he always laid on a nice, thick guilt-trip for Caleb whenever he had something to argue about.

Before leaving, James broke out into a vigorous exercise routine. He jogged in place, did lunges, crunches, and numerous push ups. Once they exited the house, they ran into Olivia one last time. She was already waiting at her front door with her sniper rifle that was taller than Mikey. Before they could even say their goodbyes, Olivia popped the question she was longing to ask. She mentioned that she was running very low on food and needed to make a run to the supermarket. Although she had done it many times before, she thought it would be better accomplished by two experienced soldiers. Since she couldn't bring herself to trust Mikey home alone, she wanted to bring him along too. Both Caleb and James had no choice but to accept her request after all she did for them. A trip to the local supermarket didn't sound like such a big deal, right?

* * *

Turns out that Olivia might have fibbed a little just to get what she wanted, because the walk turned out to be a lot longer than expected. She exposed herself to be an opportunist in desperate times, but there was nothing the boys could say. The group walked into a spacious parking lot and saw a notable store with a large red logo that said "Shoprite" in cursive font.

"I hope you know we could've been out of Albany by now," James passively remarked.

"It wasn't _that_ long," Olivia said, but she knew the truth, "Besides, you guys can just spend the night again..."

"The more time I waste here, the more time we risk being caught," he negligently said.

Caleb kept calm even after realizing that James sort of blown his own cover. He looked at Olivia and noticed a questionable expression appear on her face. Hoping that it would blow over, he looked away and decided not to make a scene out of it. He immediately pursued the jar head towards the entrance. James rested his grip on the handle and heavily pulled the door. Strangely, he was having a difficult time opening the door and every time he tugged it, it only opened about an inch apart. The small bell above the door jingled every time. Caleb pressed his face against the unclean glass and cuffed his eyes; the double doors were chained from the inside,

"Chained?" Olivia anxiously questioned, "It wasn't chained the last time I came here."

Olivia turned around and searched the parking lot relentlessly for any signs of people. There was nothing but aged, rusted up vehicles with tires and spare parts lying about.

"What's wrong?" James asked.

"The slavers, they did this, I know they did!" Olivia groaned, rolling her eyes and rubbing her own neck in stress.

"Should we leave?"

"No…" she turned back around and faced the entrance, "They can't do this. We just gotta be quick."

The oldest three devised a plan while Mikey did what was best and stood plastered to Olivia's side. The plan was: While Caleb and James each pulled open a door from the outside, the opening space would be large enough for both Olivia and Mikey to slip through. Once Mikey and Olivia got inside, they would keep the doors open by pushing from the inside. Just as planned, they were all inside in seconds. Everyone, except Caleb, rejoiced silently.

Of course, they were all alert and kept their guards up at all costs. They ran into two idle Runners as soon as they entered the location. The two Infected stood in separate corners, having their faces buried into their palms. The Runners cried and twitched to themselves in agony, which led the group to believe that these two were recently infected. It was absolutely the most horrifying thing to watch someone slowly transform into a monster. Olivia recalled eliminating every Infected the last time she scavenged the place, and it was beyond her knowledge on how they kept returning, _especially_ when it was chained.

One per person, Olivia and Caleb sneaked up behind the Runners to end their misery. Olivia removed a shiv from her pocket and punctured the Runner's neck with it. It screams couldn't escape it's mouth after having a hole pierced through its throat and it fell to the floor, squirming in pain and eventually dying. Caleb did something simple, and ran the Runner right through. It was an instant-kill and it flopped to the floor. He flicked his bloody blade at the floor and bent down to wipe it on the Runner's clothes. Mikey, who didn't seem bothered by any of this, watched Caleb in fascination. He was staying hidden behind a rack of wax fruits with James,

"Is he your best friend?" Mikey asked James.

James smiled and chuckled. They both stood up after getting a signal that they were safe for the time being,

"We aren't friends, I just know him."

"He's cool," he said, speaking through his toothless smile, "Is he nice?"

James took a stern stance and crossed his arms. He continued to shake his head, almost feeling disappointed at what he was about to say,

"Nah, not really..."

Mikey was only a child, so it didn't mean much to him. It didn't take a lot of effort to grab his attention either. He walked off and followed after Olivia and Caleb, probably caring more about finding something good to eat for dinner.

Besides being in terrible condition, the supermarket still possessed a bizarre number of goods on the shelves. They weren't full, of course, but only had a small amount collected near the front of the aisles. Caleb read the labeling on most of the goods and realized that they were FEDRA owned. Olivia spoke to Caleb in secret and brought up that the government use to provide shipments of foods to the supermarket in order to feed the civilians in the zone. Clearly from the looks of things, supplies began running slow at some point, which is why the military refused to give people their rations. It started off smooth, but all things good must come to an end.

After grabbing some plastic bags, Olivia didn't hesitate to quickly stack it with cans of beans and vegetables. Mikey grabbed the remaining amounts of honey and peanut butter, which probably just added up to only five jars. Just to lend a helping hand, Caleb went ahead and grabbed some bags of rice and threw in some extra items for himself. Being the only one to walk out of the last aisle, Caleb looked over at James, who was standing by a cashier counter nearest the store entrance. Assuming he was keeping lookout, Caleb strode over to him with a small tube in his hand. As he approached closer to him, he tossed the tube at James. He caught it and looked down at it. It read that it was a tube of shaving cream with the brand name of 'Barbasol'.

"That'll keep you happy…right?" Caleb asked flatly. He leaned in on the counter James stood behind.

"Yeah," James replied with a nod.

He rested the tube on the counter and continued to look elsewhere. Caleb noticed the difference in James' attitude. He seemed irritated, and he figured it had to do with them being at the supermarket,

"What's your problem?" Caleb asked suspiciously.

"Nothing."

"Quit being such a jackass all the time, James."

James laughed mockingly to himself. He stood firmly and leaned in over the counter with his arms crossed,

"I just...I wish we would've left sooner," he waited, "So I wouldn't have to travel with a Firefly anymore."

As stoic and patient as Caleb could be sometimes, it was clear that he was upset by James' words. The worst part about it was that he knew it was deliberately said to hurt him, and James just might have succeeded the impossible. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the tube off the conveyor belt and tossed it into his backpack. Pulling his hood over his head, he walked off and looked back one final time to throw up his middle finger and flip James off,

"You're such a moody prick sometimes," he finished.

James didn't bother responding. If anything, he knew deep down that he fucked up and probably severed the relationship they worked so hard to maintain, but it didn't matter at this point. He believed it was necessary if he wanted to get back home and live a normal life. He thought about himself going back home and being able to patrol the checkpoints like he use to. He thought about sleeping in a bed every night, and eating meals everyday. He thought about protecting the civilians of the zone and the looks on their faces. However, the only looks he could remember were the horrified faces through infection scans. He remembered being ordered to kill people in cold blood. He thought back on Sid, Lauren, Wells, and eventually his own grave.

It scared him to death...but he was faithful things could be better in Harrisburg. He was faithful…

In the midst of it all, James heard some distinct noises coming in from the outside. The noises were one of those sounds that if you'd never experienced it personally you still got come sense of recalling it, but James couldn't put his finger on it. Rhythmic clattering on hard pavement was the best way he could describe the sounds. At first he was almost entranced by it, but the deep voice of a man is what made him throw himself to the floor. At that point, James realized what it was: Men and horse hooves. Since the windows were barricaded by tall shelves and a few vending machines, he used them for cover to peer through the windows that looked out into the parking lot. He saw three horses and spotted a rider on each one. James didn't waste any time and decided it would be best to warn the others and find a way out. He sneaked through the aisles and Olivia was the first to be located. He sneaked up behind her and unintentionally startled her, causing her to drop a jar of pickled cucumbers. The jar shattered and she jumped back to avoid any glass and pickle juice. She stomped like a child and looked at James,

"James that was the last one!" she complained.

James shushed repeatedly and delicately grabbed hold of her shoulders,

"Shh! Olivia!" he calmed, "Olivia, look at me! There's horses outside, we have to go."

A look of trauma appeared over her face and she covered her mouth, she looked to the side of James to where the entrance was located,

"Where's Mikey?" Olivia asked. It was clear he was her now her number one priority.

"He's probably with Caleb, let's go."

They both beamed off further into the massive location and searched every aisle they could. They couldn't shout because they knew if they shouted loud enough, they could risk being heard by the horsemen. But time was running out and James and Olivia had no choice but to hide after hearing the front entrance being unlocked and swung open. The bell rang and the sounds of rattling chains hit the ground and every wall throughout the entire market. Olivia pulled James behind, what use to be a fish market, counter. James looked over at Olivia and was somewhat relieved and surprised that someone could sweat more than he did, especially a woman. Her entire face glistened and her palms looks moist and shaky. Accompanied by her nerves, she began to silently hyperventilate. James turned away to the sound of a voice far off in the distance,

"Dead Runners," a woman's voice said, "Someone's been here,"

"Reckon they're still here?" Another voice said. Clearly he was an Englishman.

"You two go 'round back," A third, much calmer, and deeper voice said.

His footsteps could be heard walking through the aisles and he eventually walked on the broken jar of pickles. James had his chin to the floor, looking through the space underneath the surrounding counters. Just as he hoped for, he saw footsteps walking out into the open. Like a true hunter, it was a confident and watchful stroll, and it was something that could set any target uneasy. James sat up beside Olivia and pressed his back against the counter.

The footsteps came closer and closer to the point where it sounded like the horseman was right above their heads….and he was. James took a double take at the filthy sink to the side. The partially rusted steel gave an unclear, fuzzy reflection of a man getting prepared to crane his head over the counter. James sealed his eyes shut and Olivia covered her mouth to hush her heavy breathing. Unbelievably, a loud, young scream was heard coming from another far out area in the supermarket.

The footsteps that were behind the counter quickly departed. Olivia felt prompted to get up and show herself, but it was an unwise choice to make. James swiftly reached over and locked his arm across her torso and powerfully held her down and covered her mouth with his other hand. He knew very well what she wanted to do, but it could be something that could result in getting them all killed. If they wanted to save Mikey, they had to be smart about it. She couldn't overpower James no matter how hard she squirmed and by the time the bell above the door rang a final time, James released her. Olivia fell weakly to the floor and let out a sob so hard it started off silent and built up into a shrill cry.

* * *

James followed Olivia through a back entrance. Pushing past some old plastic strips that served as curtains, they walked past a slaughter room and a large backroom that held a bunch of crushed boxes. Making a left, they walked through another set of plastic curtains and were led to a roll up gate. The gate, however, was already rolled up and Mikey's little green cap was on the cold pavement. Olivia reached down and picked it up, unable to hold the cap like it possessed some strenuous weight. James reached over to console her, but she pulled away. Clearly in shock, she backed away and returned back inside the supermarket.

Seconds later, James learned something: Caleb was missing too.


	12. Chapter 11 - Welcome Home

James and Olivia returned back to the houses. Even after their devastating loss, they proceeded with their task and took home most of their chosen goods. Since there weren't four like there was in the beginning, there was a limit to what they could both carry. James carried all he could since he was the powerhouse of the group. However, it wasn't too long before Olivia hinted that she needed some time alone. James didn't realize it until he was by himself, but he needed some time to think too. He exited Olivia's apartment, entered the room he and Caleb camped in last night, and made his way down into the basement.

Caleb's sword was also left behind at the supermarket along with the goods. Resting his backpack and assault rifle beside the mattress, James was left with Caleb's katana. He unsheathed the sword and began to examine its stained blade. Caleb had such a bizarre relationship with it, he even slept and ate with it at all times. However, he was still impressed with Caleb's use of it. The more James looked at it, the more he felt that there was something alive and alluring about it. Fully exposing the blade, he held it in his hand and took a good swing at the air. He returned the sword back into its scabbard after thinking of accidentally cutting his own eye out, and placed it with his other belongings. He walked back to his mattress and lifelessly dropped onto it.

The James back in Boston would've been glad to get Caleb out of his hair and would've fled to Albany the first chance he got. _Why not?_ he thought. His leg was recovering, he was getting stronger, and he was closer to Harrisburg. Now was the perfect opportunity to let others deal with Caleb and let him get the treatment he rightfully deserved. But the more James thought about the unimaginable mistreatment Caleb might have to endure, he cringed his eyes shut and could feel an incongruous twist in his stomach. The only person Caleb would have to depend on was defenseless Mikey, who would most likely do nothing but watch and await his turn. James opened his eyes and looked across from him, observing his assault rifle practically begging to be picked up and fired.

* * *

Caleb was draped over the rump of a horse and hung lifelessly like a tied up hog. Both his legs and arms were fastened with zip ties. His arms were tied behind his back and were craned upward with both palms facing each other like some suggesting bondage position. He was blindfolded and his mouth was gagged with a rag that was tightly knotted at the back of his head. He also had a small stinging cut on the bridge of his nose. It took a while for Caleb to regain consciousness, and once he did, he could vaguely see out the thin blindfold over his eyes. Since his head was dangling, he could see the muscular motion of the horse's thigh and its flicking tail. Craning his neck up a little more, he saw patches of dying grass reeling by like a motion film.

He couldn't exactly tell how many horses there were, but he heard more than one. With that coming to mind, he thought about Mikey. Hoping to get some kind of response from the little guy, Caleb released a muffled groan.

"Mikey?" He said indistinctly.

Mikey rode with the third member who Caleb had yet to see—the group's ringleader, Huxley. Being in this situation was something terrifying to Mike. It was like he was a cornered pup. Considering that he's seen these men brutally massacre his old home, made him thankful to see that Caleb was still alive. He was just too terrified to give a reply.

"Look who decided to wake up," the recognizable English accent said.

Clearly, he was the rider of the horse Caleb was on because he sounded closest. Caleb mustered up all the strength he had, hoping that would trigger some hidden power that would break him free from the zip ties, but the harder he struggled, the more exhausted he became.

"Must be mental to think you can break through those," Caleb heard after a short chuckle, "You honestly thought you could escape the zone and we wouldn't find you?"

Caleb was desperate to escape, desperate to the point where he thought it would be a safe idea to roll off the back of horse and risk getting trampled by the half-ton horses that were probably behind it. I might have not been the sign he was expecting, but Caleb stopped after realizing that the riders arrived at their destination. The riders were conversing with some men behind a tall wall of some sort. Most likely, the wall was the checkpoint that led into the quarantine zone. After their exchange was finished, Caleb could hear a loud thundering noise that sounded like a gate opening and the horse began moving again. After a couple of minutes, a loud slam indicated that they were finally past the checkpoint and inside the walls. The horses stopped and Caleb could hear the riders' feet alight on the rocky pavement. Soon after, the riders eventually began speaking with other people in the area for a couple of minutes.

Suddenly, Caleb was yanked off the horse by two pairs of rough hands. His eyes wildly moved around while underneath his eyelids. He tried to squirm as hard as he could by kicking and pushing with his legs, but his efforts were pointless. The Englishman grabbed his neck and painfully squeezed it while forcibly making Caleb stand upright on both feet.

"Unless you want to be tied forever and rot in a cell somewhere, I suggest you calm. The fuck. Down," Caleb heard the Englishman say.

Caleb instantly calmed down at the sound of those words. Him being untied meant a better chance of escaping since they had no idea who he really was. Apparently, they thought he was an escaped civilian. He could feel the knots being undone at the back of his head, and the blindfold was immediately yanked off his face along with the gag. Once the zip lines were also cut free, he was roughly pushed to the dirt by the fed-up Englishman. Caleb tensed his eyes away from the sudden glare of the sun above the district. Once his eyes slowly adapted to the brightness, he looked all the others that surrounded him. There were men and women walking around, working on gardens and carrying heavy buckets of water. It wasn't hard to tell what role belonged to who since the slave laborers were badly unkempt and weaponless. Finally, Caleb looked over and saw Mikey standing near the third member of the group. The third man was taller than Caleb, had shoulder length hair, and a black bandanna that covered the bottom half of his face. He had deep blue eyes that looked like freezing pools of water. He reached up and pulled down the bandanna, revealing his dry lips,

"Welcome back home," Huxley said.

Hoping to come up with a clever plan during the little time he was there, Caleb observed every aspect of the zone, including the people. He received nothing but grief-stricken stares by almost every other prisoner in the zone. From their curious looks, they could tell he wasn't a familiar face. Continuing to scan around, he noticed a gun in every slaver's hand. Something that didn't go unnoticed was that all of the weapons looked bizarrely identical to the assault rifles the military used. A dark man of large stature caught Caleb staring too long at his gun and they briefly made eye contact,

"If you want a closer look, I'll give you one," the slaver said.

Caleb returned his attention back to his own business and wisely decided to let that threat slide. He and little Mikey were currently going through the enslaved edition of an orientation. They were both left with an aged, frail woman with brown hair and a beige headband. She spoke elaborately and professionally, however, Caleb wasn't listening to a word she was saying. She was in a garden and on her knees, instructing Caleb on how to properly harvest fruits and take care of the soil. Once she noticed him looking away again, she slapped her thighs with her palms in her an impatient manner,

"I'd really 'preciate it if you just listened to me…" she said with a southern accent, "They ain't gonna be happy when they see you ain't learn much."

He looked back down and saw that her demeanor and manners were a whole lot different than the men and women who dragged him in here. He took a good look at her and realized that she was most likely enslaved too. She didn't have a gun and her fingernails and clothes looked like she played in dirt for sport,

"Sorry," Caleb apologized listlessly.

"It's okay…" she said rubbing her hands on her pants.

Although Caleb apologized, his eyes continued to wander away and look at the other people in the area. He saw working men chopping up blocks of wood and young women being fancied inappropriately by their male slave drivers.

"So, they caught and brought you back here, huh?" The nosy woman asked.

Caleb was thrown off by her question and realized that he couldn't let anyone know that he traveled from Boston, let alone, with company,

"Yeah…" Caleb lied, without skipping a beat.

"What's he doin' with you?" The lady asked, pointing at Mikey.

Caleb looked down at Mikey, who was stunned by the whole situation. He probably would've blabbed about Olivia and James if he wasn't in this state, but he hadn't said a word since his arrival. Caleb figured that returning back to the place Mikey fought so hard to escape must have been affecting him profoundly. Caleb pulled him close and a grew a little annoyed at the fact that the gardener could ask such a personal question. It was clearly none of her business,

"I was looking after him," he lied again.

"That's...a very noble thing to do."

Caleb nodded, thinking about Olivia and all she had done to provide and protect Mikey. It didn't mean much to him at first because he figured Mikey was just an obligation and that was the 'right' thing to do, but he was wrong. Just because it was the right thing didn't mean it was practiced by everyone. He realized the value they had for one another and that Caleb would've regretted letting anything happen to Mikey. He came to the decision to protect him from being harmed by anyone at all costs. He knelt on knee and looked at Mikey's pale face. He was completely stripped of his innocence and carefree attitude.

"Hey..." Caleb whispered, "I'm gonna get you out of here okay?"

Mikey gave no response. His eyes were filling up with tears and his attention was suddenly grabbed by a loud scream from the sidelines. He sought protection from Caleb and ran behind him while tightly clenching his sweater.

"HEY!" the Englishman's voice shouted.

It echoed within the walls of the zone that it was impossible to not catch everyone's attention. Caleb shot a side-glare and stood up on both feet, making sure that Mikey stood safely out of anyone's reach. The Englishman noticed Caleb's attitude and couldn't hold himself from challenging the outsider. He chuckled, and give a demented laugh as if it were all just a game to him. He walked closer to Caleb, having their faces only inches apart. Without a feel of falter in his spirit, Caleb stared right back and could feel his nostrils slightly flare. The Englishman let out one last chuckle,

"You know what? I like you. But know this..." he said just before stepping even closer one last time to whisper in his ear "You are not going to win around here…" he pointed at his own chest, "I am. And I'm gonna break you in."

"I'd like to see that," Caleb said with a daring nod.

* * *

About a week had already passed and Caleb had given up on James and Olivia. It was sad to say, but he even told that to Mikey. Of course, Mikey was devastated to hear those words...so Caleb apologized and desperately tried to take it back. He figured there was no way they were coming for him and Mikey. He thought he knew James, which was exactly why he was having so much difficulty believing that he would probably just up & go. It was trivial. Thinking back, just as promised, Caleb was abused within his first couple of hours in the district. Apparently, the leader claimed Mikey was 'starting trouble' by asking for food too much. Whenever Mikey got in trouble for not doing something right, Caleb always got involved to take the beating. If any of the prisoners had kept their full promises, they both would've had a bullet in them already. To be honest, this place was more like a prison instead of a slavery camp...but maybe those two were the same thing?

As a form of punishment, slavers would take your clothes and hide them away for the autumn chills to get your bones. Barefoot Caleb was nearly stripped of his belongings, only having his bottoms and socks on. Surprisingly, he was amazed by how much of a beat down he could sustain; but it was nowhere compared to how he was treated by Wells back in Boston. He'd never forget it. He was just thankful he wasn't given another black eye or any broken bones. Apparently, the slavers cared whether their people were able-bodied and he was treated. Caleb stood around shirtless, showing off some of the scrapes and blows given to him on the back and front of his battered torso. He and a couple of other enslaved individuals were rounding up around a barrel of fire to keep themselves warm and cozy. Mikey was nearby and was in Caleb's sight at all costs. The kid hadn't spoken much of a word since his time being there. The last thing Mikey spoke about was how much he missed Olivia and if he was ever going to see her again. Caleb couldn't answer.

There would be nights where Mikey would do nothing but cry himself to sleep. It wasn't something Caleb knew how to deal with, but he tried to his understand his pain and knew that it was the only way a child like him could express it. Apparently some people in the zone were getting annoyed with him, and strangely, he was the only child there. That's when Caleb learned the truth about what happened to the other children. The teenagers were more rebellious than the adults, so the only way to go through with this entire camp was to exterminate them. It explained the mourning parents and adults who were either bothered or exceptionally pleased with Mikey's presence.

Thankfully, his emotional behavior didn't affect his eating habits. Caleb felt successful that even through all this misfortune, he was able to serve as a guardian for Mikey to the point where the kid still felt some sense of hope or protection. He was resting on a chopped down tree trunk, covered head-to-toe in soot. Mikey was given the simple job to throw coal into the operating furnaces of the zone. He looked like a coal miner for his little age. He sat to sidelines and ate a wiped-clean apple that was given to him as a reward by one of the slavers. Mikey was also missing his shirt and cap, but had on Caleb's sweatshirt cardigan that touched and dragged along the ground. It lacked a zipper but it wasn't much of an issue.

Mikey sunk his teeth into the red skin of the apple and felt the juices quench his throat. Glancing up, he saw Caleb looking directly at him. Naturally, he gave Caleb a soft smile, only to receive one back. To Caleb, getting a smile from him meant he was doing something right. Deciding that he was warm enough, Caleb walked over to Mikey and sat on the ground right beside him. Something Caleb adored, but probably wouldn't admit, was that he and Mikey were at the same height whenever he crouched beside him.

"Hey, Mikey," Caleb said looking over at him.

"Hi," Mikey replied without removing his eyes off the apple. He then stopped biting into the apple and then offered some to Caleb, "Want some?"

Honestly, Caleb was _starving_ and would've done almost anything to have his own apple. He pridefully looked at the apple and back at Mikey,

"It's your apple. You earned it."

Mikey took back his apple and reached into his pocket. After a moment of really trying to get a hold of something, he pulled out a switchblade. Attempting to slice a small piece, presumably for Caleb. It would've seemed adorable to anyone else but it sent Caleb in a world of horror as it came in from left field. He jumped up like a frightened cat and hastily looked around, hoping that no one spotted him,

"Mikey!" Caleb whispered sharply. He stood in front of Mikey, hoping to block anyone's view, "Where did you get that?!"

"I found it on the ground. I think that man dropped it," Mikey said, pointing at the dark skinned slaver who Caleb remembered being threatened by on his first arrival.

Caleb reached out and lowered Mikey's hand to avoid drawing anyone's attention,

"Can you cut this…?" Mikey asked persistently.

"Mikey, do you know how much trouble you can get in for having that?"

"No…" he said innocently.

"A lot!" Caleb put out his palm and Mikey immediately got the message. He handed over the switchblade to Caleb and he stuffed it in his pocket, "Did anyone see you?" Caleb asked.

Mikey shook his head after realizing what he had done wrong.

"Are you sure…?"

Mikey nodded. His eyes began to water and his bottom lip began to droop. Caleb sighed, and felt somewhat sorry for being so demanding with Mikey. He reached up and rubbed the back of Mikey's head as a sign of affection and sat back beside him. Now, Caleb had bigger things to worry about. He had a switchblade buried in his back pocket. Anyone else would just return it to show that they had no means of doing anything wrong, but Caleb didn't know what to expect since he was considered the troublemaker. But Caleb would be lying if he said he didn't want to keep the knife for himself. It could be means to an escape for him and little Mikey.

After a couple of minutes later, they were finally able to retrieve their clothes. The clothes were piled in a dumpster. There was no foul smells of trash or anything since a dumpster's main purpose was to house clothes, ammo, and other items (trash too, but besides that). Caleb was fourth in line and was accompanied by Mikey who was holding his hand and rocking in place. From the corner of Caleb's eye, Caleb could see a woman, armed with an assault rifle, staring directly at him. He had seen her around before multiple times, and was probably around his age, but he never paid any of these wretched people any mind. Caleb's content posture rarely faltered, but a place like this specialized in breaking people. Caleb saw men and women who looked like mean smugglers from the past and were suddenly feeble minded after experiencing this place.

Only glancing at the armed woman for a second, he could see a spark of interest inside her eyes once they had direct eye contact. As the man in front of him walked away after retrieving his shirt and pants, Caleb and Mikey were next. He searched for Mikey's top, which was grey and had a distinct graphic on it. As Caleb rummaged through the clothes, he could still feel the stares of the gun-woman piercing through his side. As hard as he tried to maintain calm, he just couldn't get his mind off the switchblade he had on him. The slavers were literally hands-on with everything, so it worried Caleb that anything could happen from a frisk to a fight that would knock it out of his back pocket.

"Hurry up!" A voice said, about five places from behind.

Caleb eagerly searched and found all of their belongings, including Mikey's cap. He stepped away for a second before he spotted a small denim jacket. Reaching back and stealing it for Mikey, they both walked off a little further to a nearby cross wire fence near the end of the alley, to get dressed up.

"Hey!" A voice spoke out. Caleb only momentarily looked up, looking at the line to see who might've been talking, "Yeah, you with the kid."

There was only one person in the area being accompanied with a child, and Caleb froze as he was putting his shirt on. With his back still facing her, he slowly twisted his neck and looked over his shoulder. She was looking back at a three-quarter view of his face, since he would die before he gave any of the slavers his full attention.

"What's your name?" She asked contently.

Caleb turned away and rolled his eyes, biting his bottom lip before he could answer. He didn't know why she wanted this information. If anything, he was more surprised by the fact that she _didn't_ know his name considering all the 'trouble' he had been causing this past week. Momentarily looking away at the shortening line, he looked back at the gun-woman. She gave an impatient look that showed he was taking too long to answer such a simple question, which only prompted him to answer.

After Caleb told her his name, she nodded as if that was the key answer she was looking for. She told him to wait here until everyone else, including Mikey was safely back in their barracks. Although he refused to let Mikey be on his own, she insisted that she would have someone escort him back unharmed. By this point, Caleb was on edge. Yeah, he was probably seen as some quiet guy with an attitude, but that didn't mean he was a human devoid of any emotions. He made sure there was no outlining of the switchblade in his back pocket. Thanks to the sweatshirt cardigan, it provided a length where the dirty ends of its hem touched beyond his calves and concealed his pockets.

"How old are you Caleb…?" She asked non threateningly.

"...why?" Caleb cautiously asked.

"You're right that doesn't really matter anyway."

She stood about his exact height, probably two inches smaller. She had blue eyes and brown hair kept in a ponytail with some ugly forest green hat. He wasn't sure what type of hat it was, but he bet a million rations that James knew the type. She wore nothing special rather than some plaid top and khakis. She properly adjusted the assault rifle sling so that the weapon would be safely at her back.

"I notice you get in trouble a lot," she said with a smile. The fact that she was attempting to start a conversation made him feel more uncomfortable if she was trying to get something going. Caleb didn't bother replying, so she continued, "Y'know, when you come here to pick up your shirt?"

If Caleb didn't know any better, he could assume that she was flirting, especially by the reddish tint that began to burn in her ears and cheeks. He could only guess that hormones were the true cause and not genuine feelings. Any person of her occupation was clearly incapable of having any. Up close, she possessed an ambiguous look in terms of beauty. It was hard to tell if she was pretty or not, but Caleb just kept it at average. Maybe since she was a slaver, he found it so difficult to even identify her as a human being. Just by the mere the exchange of their looks, Caleb knew she caught on. She could tell he wasn't interested in the slightest and analyzed her like she was some outdated discovery. In fact, he judged her in every possible way, to the point where he had to stop himself from showing apparent disgust on his face. She continued,

"The guys have it a lot easier than I do but…" Caleb waited for her to finish up. She walked closer to him and cautiously reached closer to him. She laid her fingers on his wrist, almost sending out an evident tingle through her touch, "We all have…'needs' y'know? And I'm sure you do too... "

Caleb stepped back, both out of refusal and fear that she would unintentionally feel his pockets. She retracted her arm as if her confidence was bit by something venomous.

"You're fucking with me, right?" He asked, with his first ever smile. It was a smug one though, completely scarce of any authenticity.

Caleb wasn't sure how her reaction was going to be, but he begged whatever force was out there that she wouldn't try to kill him, out of rage, for denying her. After her response was a face filled with bitterness, she stepped aside and presented his path to leave. Caleb didn't care one bit how she felt, and would be even more satisfied if she started crying. As he exited and turned the corner of the alleyway, he looked back to make sure he wasn't being followed.

Suddenly, he was hit with a pungent smell that usually signaled a thunderstorm. Looking up at the booming skies, Caleb could see a swirl of dark grey clouds begin to form and occupy above the district. It was certainly about to rain, but no one was sure for how long. Caleb looked around seeing everyone stop their duties and get prepared to seek shelter. The weather was definitely getting much windier and cooler. He looked around and spotted the elder gardener he first met when he was dragged into the district. She was unpinning washed clothes of the slavers from clothes lines and putting them in barrels before they got wet again. Washing clothes and maintaining a fresh smell was difficult, and she knew that her overseers would be unhappy if they received musty clothes. Caleb briskly walked towards her and helped her out. She gave a smile, showing a chipped tooth,

"Thank you," she said.

Caleb gave a nod, and sealed up the clothes in the barrel. By the time they were finished, they were the remaining two outside. At this point, the slavers and prisoners were completely separated. The superiors were grouped, yet scattered, into their own houses. Free to eat, sleep, and do whatever they wanted. If days like this really mattered to anyone, it was to the people who had to work their asses off day in and day out without rest of food.

The gardener and Caleb finally made it up the block and inside of their building as the rain began to pick up. It took both of them to close the half-functioning door right behind them. The neighborhood was typically made up with numerous, tall houses, all different colors and usually had two to three stories. The laborer's house was typically patrolled by three gunmen, but there were two today. Caleb and the gardener walked into the house and made their way through the thin corridor and into a wide open space to their left that led to the basement. Once you made it to the basement, you were surrounded by about fifty to sixty workers. Oddly enough, people were shivering, and the furnace wasn't producing enough heat.

They needed coal, and the only person who had it was the dictator of this mad camp, Huxley. His house was further up the block, but that wasn't Caleb's concern. What enraged him was the fact that people were encouraging Mikey to get it in the middle of thunderstorm. _Over my dead body_ , Caleb thought. People who would send a child out in such conditions were, for the lack of a better insult, fucking heartless. Instead, Caleb made it his duty to get the bags of coal they needed, but needed one thing done before he left: He managed to take the gardener someplace private, regardless of how many people were in the room. For as long as they had been there together, they learned each other's names for the first time. Her name was Iris and Caleb was about to trust his gut on something extremely risky. Caleb told Iris he felt like he could trust her, and she was pleased to hear that. However, the look on her face completely changed when he presented the switchblade from his back pocket. She covered her mouth. Caleb begged for her not to tell anyone, and made sure that he would never ask her again. But to his surprise, she vowed to keep it a secret and hold it until he returned. Upon hearing those words, Caleb felt the irresistible urge to embrace her. Finally, Caleb made an ally just by being himself.

* * *

James and Olivia had dreadfully been camping in another house not too far out from the camp the past few days. Technically, the duo already entered the zone from behind, but after observing the community from a distance, James could tell that the slavers only took control of _two blocks_ out of the entire zone. It only confused James even more, because a group as small as this one should have been chased away with ease if the military were involved. Military troops were trained for threats way greater than these.

For the camp's own imprisonment and safety, they built fences around it with the addition of immobile cars and trucks. There was only one way to get in, and it was through the large wall in the front. Their plan was to ambush the quarantine zone the following night. With Olivia's familiarity with the place, she mentioned that she might be able to find a way in through a secret passages, but only if the slavers hadn't found it and blocked it off yet. There were no promises.

With the help of her rifle scope, Olivia could see yards out into the camp. With the next night soon approaching, Olivia was losing patience.

"They've all gone inside…" Olivia said reaching over the table to grab her bowl of beans. She took a bite and kicked back with her legs up on the window sill, "If we don't see them, I'm still going in there and killing every mother fucker for putting their hands on Mikey."

Her face was becoming tearful, but there was more signs of hatred in Olivia than ever before.

"Caleb doesn't like to go down without a fight," James added, "He's too stubborn to die, so I'm sure they're both fine…"

Olivia readjusted her position and firmly placed all four legs of the chair on the floor. She turned her seat to face him on the sofa from afar. By her current demeanor, she had a bold look on her face. She looked at him square in the eye, hoping he'd crap himself.

"Be honest with me."

He didn't answer. Instead, he froze and looked over at her pretty confused with what she could be talking about.

"When I first met you, you said that you and Caleb were both soldiers traveling to quarantine zones."

"...Yeah?" James answered after a brief pause, "Come on, you don't actually believe I'm not a soldier do you? I showed you proof and everything."

"At least you have, but Caleb hasn't...If anything, Caleb doesn't seem to know much about the military at all…"

"Olivia…"

She stood up and and grabbed her assault rifle firmly in her grip. Her definitive shoulders instantly perched as she held it.

"Back at ShopRite, you weren't careful, and you said you both 'risked being caught'..." The expression on James face slowly became surprised, and Olivia noticed it, "What are you not telling me, James?"

James let out an exhale. He was officially cornered and had no other choice but to tell Olivia the truth...but half of the truth. He mentioned everything about Caleb being a firefly and being stuck together after being kidnapped by cult members, but not once did James mention the fact he was also seen as a suspect by his 'respected' military. Although he was a victim, he played it much bigger than he should, and told Olivia lies about having no other choice but to go to back to Harrisburg because it meant a fresh new start for him and Caleb.


	13. Chapter 12 - Let's Have a Party

It was the next morning. Olivia was resting in a queen sized bed and found it incredibly hard to wake up. It was tough to admit, but she hadn't slept that good since Mikey became a part of her daily life. Looking down, and overturning her wrist, she looked at the time and realized she overslept. Cursing to herself, she hopped out of bed and rushed to the attic to get started on her lookout over the camp. Today was the day that would conclude whether their invade would come into play tonight, but she had to spot Mikey or Caleb first in order for that to happen. As she turned into the hallway and hastily climbed up the ladder that led through the hatch and into the attic, she was surprised to see James, sitting at the window and peering through the scope of her rifle.

Olivia knew it was unwise to leave your weapons with strangers, but she came to an understanding that James wasn't like the other soldiers. It may seem harsh, but he wasn't mentally fit for this world despite being born in it. She gave a soft sigh and eased her tension. She climbed the rest of her body into the attic and walked towards the window. James heard the frantic sounds of her footsteps and noted when it came to a subtle calmness,

"I let you sleep in…" James replied without distraction.

She crossed her arms, feeling unexplainably patronized by that. She stared out the window the rifle was pointed out of; since last night, the skies continued their downpour of rain. She went and found herself a seat on an overturned crate and sat beside James. Peering down to the side of his office chair, she spotted Caleb's distinct katana and a stack of fitness magazines.

"Did you sleep…?" She asked.

"Only for a couple of hours. Couldn't really get comfortable."

"Well, did you find anything…?" She immediately asked, trying not to sound inconsiderate.

James glanced over at Olivia and could tell she was miserable without the radiance of Mikey for so long. She indescribably yearned for his presence, and all he could do was give her disappointing news by shaking of his head. Without getting a response, he continued observing. There were certain parts of the streets that the scope couldn't reach. There were unreachable alleyways and tall trees that had clusters of branches.

"Do you miss him?" She asked, still sounding hoarse from her recent wake up.

"Mikey was a nice kid…" James answered, "I figured that I would never be able to forgive myself if I let you do this alone."

Olivia didn't respond, instead, she gave an ongoing stare. James looked back at her a couple of times and finally questioned what the problem was,

"I meant Caleb," she clarified.

James skewered his expression while he continued looking through the scope and shook his head. He didn't like the thought of being lured into such a trick question. Olivia looked back down at the scabbard beside him and knew that was a lie. If anything, she could tell that Caleb was just as meaningful to James as Mikey was to her. He was the first to even suggest saving them.

"You mean to tell me you can travel with him for all those days and not have any sort of feelings?"

James momentarily looked away from the scope and gave Olivia a smirk.

"That's _exactly_ what I'm telling you."

Without further question, Olivia stood up and walked off. She took it upon herself to prepare their breakfast since James seemed persistent on keeping lookout. They harbored just enough food to last them for no more than two days. After dragging her backpack into the kitchen, she opened it and looked inside. There weren't many options, but she chose between more baked beans and canned vegetables. Without much hesitation, she reached in and pulled out a large can of baked beans. Although she would normally serve herself and James half a can, she decided to be generous and serve James an entire one for himself. Besides, a guy his build could definitely use food to counterbalance his size. She looked outside of a nearby window and watched the heads of Infected travel back and forth in the yard of the house next door. Meanwhile, she carried on by boiling up a small pot of water by using a sterno can. Afterward, she placed each can of beans in the hot water once at a time.

Olivia eventually finished and returned to the attic. She watched the desirability in James' eyes when he realized that he had 55 ounces of beans to himself. Right after thanking her, he immediately dug in. She couldn't keep her eyes off of him after she noticed how quick he ate. He didn't chew, just swallowed. Before Olivia could even finish the leftover half of her can, James was nearly done with his.

"What I would do to fuck a PB&J sandwich…" James joked inappropriately. He placed the remainder of beans on the floor beside him and wiped the corners of his mouth with an overused napkin.

"Do you miss Boston?" Olivia asked, stirring a spoon around her tin can.

"I guess you could say that," he replied, "Boston wasn't the best place though," he thought back about his first arrival at Boston. He envisioned the killings he always had to witness and how it nearly drove him crazy. Although it was apart of their job, he had never been around people so daring to exterminate like it was the brightest part of their day, "I only met one special person there..." he paused. When Olivia gave him a look that hinted he continue, James figured conversing was something they could do to keep them occupied, "She died…" he finished. He made it very clear that the Firefly invasion had nothing to do with Lauren's death and that Caleb was no where responsible for that loss; it was something he was least thankful for.

"Was she your girlfriend?"

James chuckled and shook his head,

"No, no. She was just a good friend of mine, I promise," a feeble smile remained on his face, thinking back to when she admitted her love for him in the cinema, like they were in their very own drama. He still had guilt left from that day. It pained him to even think about when she got bit right afterward in the cinema, "I never really had a girlfriend or anything…" he continued.

"What?" she responded, surprised, "You're very handsome, James." Olivia complimented genuinely.

All James could do was blush and respond with a nervous smile. To avoid anymore awkward feelings, he picked up from where he left off,

"I was born in Harrisburg. I was sent to Boston after I graduated."

"And that's why you want to go back..." Olivia understood.

Although that wasn't the _only_ reason, James nodded.

"Any family there?"

"Just old friends and mentors. My family isn't around."

"Neither are mine…" Olivia said.

"What about you? Tell me a little about yourself."

Olivia gave in a deep inhale and began to speak. She didn't know where to begin except for the fact that she was born in Albany. She revealed that she was born to two Muslim parents and that she was only a teenager when they died. Her father, like James, was in the military and he was the first to go. Her mother, who was a teacher, was the second to go after she got infected and bit the bullet. Since then, she managed to take good care of herself and learned how to use guns by forming a relationship with the other delinquents in the zone. Up until now, her life wasn't anything out of the ordinary. James couldn't say much. He was mostly disappointed by the fact that her story was all too common. Giving your condolences was pointless since it was a story on repeat.

"Fucking sucks," James said.

Olivia slouched in her chair and explained that, never in a million years, did she imagine having to be stuck with a child _and_ enjoy it. Being a mother never crossed her mind, but the maternal instinct came so naturally to her and she formed an unbreakable bond with Mikey in a matter of days that. James suggested that she leave Albany and travel to Harrisburg with them, but Olivia denied the offer.

"There's no such thing as a safe haven" Olivia said, "The military doesn't give a shit about people like me or Mikey," she paused, "Or even you."

James ignored her statement since it wasn't the type of subject he was looking for in this situation. However, he could come to an understanding; more so he agreed with it. James wished Olivia the best of luck with leaving the city and mentioned finding a boat or living far out from what use to be civilization. The only thing that was lacking in her department, was a glimmer of hope...until now.

Once James finished the rest of his beans, he got back into position although Olivia gave signals that she wanted to take watch next. James peered through her scope one final time and gazed out into the field of the quarantine zone. He heard Olivia murmur something, but was too invested to pay attention to her. She took note of his concentration and decided to stop bothering. There was a small group of people at the further end of the block, and they were being supervised by two men armed with familiar military rifles. From the side, James could see a well-known stature being intersected by the branches of a tall tree. The unidentified person seemed to be engaging with someone else, and just by recognizing the gestures and body language–James knew. The person, in an all black attire and denim joggers, walked out into the open with a young little boy posted to his side,

James retreated from Olivia's rifle and leaned back in his office chair. He covered his entire face with both palms and leaned his head backwards. He looked straight at Olivia and slowly nodded with a reaffirming smirk.

Her eyes instantly began to water as she jumped from her own seat. Silent tears of joy slowly poured out of her eyes. She looked straight through the scope and spotted Mikey. He wasn't in the best condition, but she would've done anything to feel him in her arms.

* * *

The running water and trickling drops of drizzle sounded throughout the atmosphere of Albany. It was past midnight and the duo was ready to go through with their plan. Olivia tossed her backpack on and held her rifle tightly in both hands. Reaching up with one arm, she pulled down her goggles to shield both eyes. She turned back to look at James,

"Ready to do this?"

Armed from head to toe, James gave a nod and stood in place like a trooper. They both exited through the back door of the abandoned house. Once they exited, both crouched in synchrony at the sight of some Infected that happened to make their way into the backyard. There were two Clickers and one Runner; James was closest to the pair of Clickers and decided to clear a path and take one out. While on one knee, James rolled up the right hem of his jeans and dug into the shaft of his boot. He softly yanked out a small blade from the holster wrapped around his ankle and held the small blade tightly in a reverse grip. He approached the Clicker from behind and James wrapped his forearm around its neck, allowing himself to get a proper opening. James drove the knife right into the Clickers neck and it silently fell to the ground and laid in a diluting puddle of its own blood.

Olivia was on the opposite edge of the house. Her plan was to take down the Runner before it could spot her in the yard. Since she wasn't armed with any melee weapon, she chose to reply on her strength like James did numerous times. As the oblivious Runner walked by, only being a couple of feet away, Olivia took her chance to attack. The Runner was taller in comparison and she jumped onto its back and put it in a chokehold. After realizing that she bit off a little more than she could chew, she began to stumble back and forth with the weight of the Runner bending backwards on her. The Runner stumbled back and took Olivia along with it. Her back collided with the wall of the house, causing her to grunt and draw attention. The Runner shouted and groaned as it fell to the ground with Olivia still holding on. Wrapping her legs around its waist, Olivia finally got the Runner to gag and gasp for air.

The Clicker on James end was alerted by all the noise and began to travel closer to her. When it was positive of Olivia's whereabouts, it shouted and ran towards her. However, since James was able to keep himself undetected, he dived in from the sidelines and drove his knife right into its stomach. Forcefully tearing and ripping through its stomach, the Clicker was practically disemboweled. Its organs poured from the open wound and the Clicker collapsed.

Olivia finished her job and struggled to stand up after putting in so much effort to take down one rabid Runner. She dusted the wet dirt off of her garments and walked over to her rifle like she had just finished a marathon. Breathing heavily, she bent down and picked up the rifle. She looked at James who gave her a look that said it all,

"Really?" James commented. He made it evident that he was disappointed at her irrational decision.

"What?" She asked, trying to remain unnerved. She tossed the sling of her firearm over her shoulder and placed her hands on her hips, "I took it down…"

"Sure you did," James stated sarcastically. He stepped over the corpse of the Clicker he has just slaughtered and something metallic in its back pocket caught James' eye. Slightly lifting the shirt of the Infected, it was revealed to be a colt revolver. He felt like he had just unwrapped a gift and took the revolver for himself. He examined every inch of it; it was still in perfect condition,

"Oh.. _fuck_!" James exclaimed merrily, "Sweet, I've always wanted one of these…"

"Let's go, James," Olivia demanded, "Now's not the time for that."

"Just a sec."

James wanted to get the feel of holding it. He closed one eye shut and aimed directly at a nearby wooden fence. He proceeded to push out the cylinder and noticed empty chambers. He went back to searching the pockets of the corpse and only managed to find two bullets. Immediately, he reloaded the gun and placed it into his back pocket. Although he was low on ammo, he had just found a revolver, had a boot knife, and even had Caleb's sword as an accessory.

"Alright, ready."

* * *

Since they had already been lurking around the old quarantine zone; breaking into the slavers' neighborhood was a piece of cake. Moistened by the light rainfall, James and Olivia managed to slip through the sewers and resurfaced at the end of one of the two blocks. It was completely inactive and no one was around. Due to days of observing, they knew that it was the next block over that was mostly active and consisted of the kidnapped slaves and gunmen. With the amount of slavers and prisoners, it was never going to be enough to occupy two whole streets, let alone an entire zone. Honestly, it was the only reason James and Olivia believed that they stood a chance.

Standing in the ruins of a house, James and Olivia hid behind a brick wall at the sound of two incoming voices. Both were armed men. James peeked over what use to be the frame of a window and quickly dipped back down. James came up with the idea to sneak up behind each of them and take them down. Olivia pointed out that James could be a little more hands on, so he handed her his knife from his holster. They both turned off their flashlights and prepared their takedown. James proceeded to sneak out and around the ruins of the house as both armed gunman inched closer to their positions. Truthfully, they were busy having a discussion rather than keeping a legitimate lookout. James remained concealed in the shadows and just as they both walked past, James jumped out and put the last man in a headlock. Shouts escaped his enemy's mouth and the other gunman he was accompanied with turned around to the sudden halt of their conversation. He lifted his gun and attempted to focus an accurate aim at James. This gave Olivia enough time to spring from behind the brick wall and stab the gunman multiple times. He shouted and fell to the ground after a fatal stab was delivered to his side.

James was having a little more trouble than he expected and got the notion that he grew a little confident after taking down so many Infected these past few months. A powerful blow was delivered back to James' face, with the stock of the gunman's rifle. James faltered back as blood gushed out of his nose. The opponent raised his firearm to shoot James in the torso and Olivia looked down at the small knife in her hand. Holding the tip of the blade, Olivia hurled the blade at the gunman as hard as she could. It inaccurately hit him in the thigh and the gunfire was steered elsewhere. While the enemy groaned in pain, James approached him and uppercut him with a bone crushing jab. Stunned from the hit, James proceeded to grab the opening of the man's shirt. James twirled with him for momentum, and tossed him into the brick wall of ruins. The wall collided with the body as the enemy crashed through and became toppled by the bricks. James walked over to it and obtained his blade from the body's thigh and handed it back to Olivia,

"Look's like we're even…" Olivia smirked before reaching for the knife.

Everyone knew that inspecting bodies was a number one priority, so James immediately searched Olivia's victim. He reached for the gun and noticed a bizarre similarity between their rifles. Following the full reloading, from one magazine, he inspected the enemy's weapon. He read the serial number on the firearms and came to a surprisingly conclusion.

"This...this doesn't make any sense,"

"What is it?" Olivia asked with concern. She inched closer to James' back.

"These are military weapons…" James said, thinking critically to himself.

"Yeah," Olivia shrugged, "So what? People steal military weapons all the time."

"Yeah but…unless the military left all this behind and there's a storage somewhere, there's no reason why these should be locked and loaded."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't know," James turned away from her and looked back down at the firearm, "C'mon, let's move."

After searching the second body and taking the important materials they needed, they carried on with their ambush. However, they heard a couple of voices heading their way; it started off with three distinct voices. There were complaints of hearing gunfire in these parts of the block. One of the men, as a precaution, was ordered to go back and keep patrol along the district's wall. James and Olivia couldn't risk getting into another life threatening battle, so for their own safety, they fled and crossed over into the next block, where the real threat lied. The zone would be on high alert after the bodies were found.

Foolishly, there was one man left to guard the wall of the entire district. It was unknown how many armed men and women there were, so Olivia and James had to play this entire mission safe. Olivia and James sneaked into an alleyway that was cut off by a fence and moved the dumpster into a position where it could conceal their position. The guard stood on top of a tall scaffolding, keeping a lookout on what was happening on the outside of the walls. He, too, was a sniper and was heard firing too many gunshots just to take down a Clicker on the outside. Luckily for Olivia, she came up with a bright plan. Grabbing her rifle, she propped it up on a wooden crate and aimed. James instantly grabbed the barrel and jerked it downward, breaking her concentration before she could fire.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" James whispered sharply.

"The hell does it look like? I'm going to kill the bastard," Olivia smart mouthed back.

"And alert everyone?"

"No one's gonna know it came from my gun," she said, patting her own head as if it were common sense.

Olivia nudged James' arm away and prepped herself for a shot. She tilted her head as she looked through the scope. She set her gaze on the guard as he set foot a little too close to the edge of the wall. He fired once and tugged the bolt for another shot. He continued to aim and fired a second shot, following with another tug. As he readied himself for a third shot, Olivia pulled her trigger and delivered a flawless head shot. Blood splattered from the splitting of his cranium and the forceful jolt of his head sent him falling over the other side of the wall. James looked at Olivia in bedazzlement as she fell back into her previous position and looked at the magazine of her pistol.

"5 bullets left. Have to make every shot count," she said, "We should blow the walls of this place.

The idea to blow up the walls sounded like the epitome of ideas, but the only defect was that there was no explosives to be found. James cursed as he saw a sixth gunman of the group walk out of a house nearest to the wall. Before he and Olivia could be spotted, they both fell back into their cramped hiding spot. From their discreet observation, the gunman just needed some air, but it wasn't too long before he noticed that no one was watching over the wall. To make matters worse, the two other gunman that Olivia and James sneaked past returned to the main block.

"There dead!" they heard a woman say, "Lucas and Pat are dead, we have to alert Huxley and the others!"

"What the hell? What happened to the guard?" they heard another voice say.

"Keep watch over the slaves, we'll get Huxley," the woman spoke again.

The man returned into the house and shut the door behind him while the two others scattered. Things were beginning to become dire and Olivia suggested that she find higher ground and take out anyone if James got into trouble. Partially putting trust in her talent as a marksman, he agreed. Olivia departed, whereas James decisively dashed across the street. He kept his back pressed against the wall once he reached the house and he fell into a crouched position as he crept past an open window. As he cautiously checked inside, he spotted the man with his back facing the window. It was like he was in a trance or daydream of some sort. Finally turning around, the man was shocked to see James with an assault rifle drawn right to his nose. Up close, he looked a few years younger than James. This is when James began to hate himself deep down because he knew his weaknesses was kicking in. After James strictly demanded that he drop all of his weapons, the teen was patted down as a confirmation. James eased back and aimed the barrel at the teen's backside. The kid tried to remain as calm as possible and had the sweat that glazed over his olive skin. He looked around eighteen or so, was average sized, and didn't stand a chance,

"Where are they?"

"W-who? What are you talk–"

James challenged himself. Instead, he moved the end of his assault rifle and pressed it to the back of the boy's head.

"The people you kidnapped, where the fuck are they?"

"O-okay, okay!" He cried out in a sharp whisper, "They're in the cellar!"

He trembled as he led the way. He trembled so gravely his teeth could be heard clattering and the soles of his shoes tapped uneasily just inches before they would return to the floor. He slowly walked towards one of the old chipped doors in the corridor. The teen was smart to make his movements so steadily, because he knew his life was on the line. As concentrated as James was, he didn't fail to remain alert to his surroundings. The fidgety teen unlocked the latch on the door and was immediately pressed against the door by James. As the door swung open and they both made it inside, James quietly shut the door behind him. The staircase was lit by _one_ lantern and left the rest of the level below in darkness. The first thing James spotted was a cramped person at the bottom on the stairs who seemed to be awoken by the random noises. The prisoner's eyes flew even wider in shock, presumably because he noticed one of his brutal overseers were taken hostage.

James could feel himself getting closer, so they began to pick up their pace. They walked down the stone steps and once they finally reached the lower levels, James was beyond appalled to see so many bodies inhibit one room. He retched upon contact with a foul stench and briefly covered his mouth. He spat a ball of spit in the corner where he was sure no one was resting. He noticed separate pails that reeked of urine and feces. Flies swarmed the room and blood stained the walls.

"Wake them up," James demanded while gritting his teeth. He aggressively elbowed him in the back.

In a heartbeat, the kid heavily banged the edge of the wall beside him. He raised his voice loud enough to reach everyone in the cellar, but low enough to not alert anyone on the outside. One by one, heads started to rise.

Caleb fought to open his eyes, and immediately began to question himself on what the hell was going on. Mikey was a heavy sleeper and Caleb did all he could to sit his little body upright. Caleb wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly as Mikey slowly opened his eyes. All Caleb could see were the figures of two gunman stand by the stairs. He looked over at the basement window and didn't spot a glimpse of sunlight. That's when Caleb realized that there was something unusual happening.

"Caleb?" he heard one of the silhouettes call out.

Caleb narrowed his eyes to the sound of the voice. He had given up, what he hoped it'd be, so long ago. He proceeded to act normally and stood up,

"What?" he said, sounding pestered. What was he in trouble for now?

James panicked at the sound of his voice and toggled on his flashlight. It took longer than it should have, but once he turned it on, the bouncing of the light lit up his face. Caleb couldn't believe what he was seeing; once James' light darted to Caleb's position, he became tongue-tied.

"James...?" Caleb asked to clarify he wasn't hallucinating.

Instantly, he started to climb over the murmuring crowds of people that sat down below in front of him. He stepped on a couple of fingers, but was too dumbfounded to give a damn. James pulled the captive teen back by the neckline of his shirt and threw him against the wall. He lowered his guard and inched closer to the crowd. He looked down at Caleb once he reached the front,

"Hey," James said, silently inspecting his current condition. There was only a scab on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey…" Caleb responded.

His voice sounded strained as if he were holding back tears, and James picked up on it. It was surprising for James to see that Caleb might have actually been broken by this place. His manners weren't like when they first met. To others, that might seem like a good thing, but it was actually frightening to think what horrid things this place could do to people. James reached out and firmly rested his hand on Caleb's shoulder, sliding it down to his elbow,

"Everything alright?" He asked concerned.

Caleb silently nodded. He was too overwhelmed by the situation to realize that James also arrived with his katana. James removed his backpack, then the scabbard, and carefully delivered it to him. A smirk appeared on Caleb's face like he had just been reunited with a lost pet. He chuckled and carefully equipped himself with it. More appreciative than he had ever been, he thanked the ex-soldier. He returned to his old self again just by the mere presence and possession of his praised tool.

"Oh! Mikey!" Caleb remembered. With the help of James' flashlight, they searched along the back walls of the cellar. Mikey came running to the calling of his name. He squeezed between and hauled his little legs over the shoulders of the people sitting. Being summoned to the front, he walked beside Caleb and naturally held his side for protection. Caleb looked down and spoke, "Remember my friend?"

James glanced up at Caleb and gave him an ashamed look.

"Where's Olivia?" Mikey asked, rubbing his eye.

James bent down to somewhat reach Mikey's height. He still overshadowed him.

"Olivia came with me...she can't wait to see you, but we have to be very quiet."

Just then, James felt something be pulled from his back pockets He quickly turned to see his newly found colt revolver pointed at his face. James silently cursed to himself. He hadn't gotten the chance to prove it yet, but James was thinking about letting the teen live. He just couldn't find it in himself to end his life so early, even now as he pointed a gun to his face. In his head, James called himself stupid repeatedly, but all James could see was a frightened kid who probably didn't know his place in the world. James scooted Mikey behind him for protection, and put the other arm up,

"Look, I just want to get these people out of here..."

"Fuck that!" the teenager spat, sounding distressed. He shivered like a nervous wreck.

He cocked back the hammer and prepared to pull the trigger, but from behind, a random man jumped on his back and threw him off balance. The ear-popping bullet shot someone else in the room and the person beside the victim began shrieking at the sight of the bloodied body. Caleb withdrew his sword and came in at the teen from the left. Just as the teenager broke free from the man holding him back, Caleb hacked his sword downward and sliced above both wrists like butter. With both hands still clasped around the revolver, it was separated from the teens body and fell to the ground like a pair of dead tarantulas. Nearly everyone was in a state of panic and the volume eventually lowered to only hear the shrill screams and cries of the teen that fell on the floor. He kicked wildly as looked at his severed limbs. Blood shot out over his face and clothes and he stuffed them underneath each armpit to ease the pain and seal in the blood. He looked at the ground in front of him and saw his own joints. James looked at Caleb in horror from behind and made sure Mikey looked away at all times. "Don't look," he kept telling him.

Caleb paced back and forth in front of the halfwit.

"How does it feel—being in pain?" Caleb apathetically teased the captive, "Not good, does it?"

The enemy held back his screams and whimpered repeatedly. His eyes became stressed and tears flowed with the sweat that caked his face. James retrieved his revolver from the chilling fingertips of the teen's detached hands. Until then, Caleb stopped walking and pointed the blade directly at the teen's face,

"Where's our belongings?"

After a long struggle to understand the frantic words that came out of his mouth, James and Caleb announced to everyone in the room that they were free. Nearly everyone stood up and began to leave to the cellar. As the last person made their way up, Caleb and James prepared to follow after them, however, Caleb heard a weak cough. He asked for James' help to light up the place and noticed corpses in the room—people who died overnight. Unfortunately, one of the bodies were Iris', and she had a gnarly gunshot wound to the stomach.

"No..." Caleb softly cried.

He ran to Iris and knelt to her side. He looked at her stomach and tried adding pressure to the wound with his hands. Although she refused, he and James tried to help her to her feet, but she let out a blood-curdling cry that showed there was nothing they could do. Instead, the boys laid her flat on her back. She looked up at Caleb and James,

"Come on, we gotta go," Caleb said.

She reached up with her aged hands and held Caleb's. She informed him that he knew better than anyone that she wasn't going survive. She looked over at James and thanked him for all he was doing and setting people free. She believed that this was the end of the line for her and she would finally be free of witnessing the terrors in this world. She couldn't ask for anything more considering that she's lived through it all. As she looked up at them, her eyes lost all signs of life and stopped its faint blinking. A final tear rolled down the side of her face and her grasp became limp. Caleb rested her hand down on her chest and stood over her body. He picked up his katana and looked back at the hand-less slaver. Once he prepared himself to charge, he felt a strong hold wrap around his arm.

"Caleb, not now," James pulled.

"Let...go!" Caleb tugged himself, nearly overpowering him.

James reached out with both arms and wrapped them around, knowing he couldn't break out of it.

"Look, he's not worth it," he said, trying to calm him, "We have to get Mikey out of here first…" he reminded.

Caleb looked at Mikey, who was defenseless and shivering next to the stair case. Caleb stopped struggling and eventually calmed down. He looked down at the ground as James assumed it was okay to release him.

"You're right. Let him rot," he spat, staring bitterly at the teen.

From where they stood, they heard large noises that sounded like scraping metals, coming from the outside.

"They're opening the wall, let's go!"

* * *

Both James and Caleb locked the captive teen down in the basement with the rest of the corpses since he would soon join them. Mikey stayed inside of the house and hid inside of a cabinet until things were completely calm. Once the boys exited the house, they all noticed the walls being opened together by the prisoners. They were so eager to leave, it came in the way of making them think clearly.

"WAIT!" James shouted at the top of his lungs.

No one listened. Once they succeeded on unlocking the gate, they slid it open. Two Infected charged right inside the camp. One jumped on a man, and his screams were heard as well as the many others he was accompanied with. Without skipping a beat, everyone carelessly trampled the body and fled into the outside world like a scared swarm of ants. They all managed to slip past the extra Clicker that made its way inside. Caleb withdrew his sword once again and walked up to the idle Clicker. The Infected already took notice of Caleb's approach and ran towards him. With one simple swing, the Clicker's head was sent rolling. James deemed himself responsible for the Clicker feasting over the unlucky survivor and planted a steaming bullet into its head. Caleb returned the katana back into its scabbard and looked out into the open land that was beyond the wall. The feel of redemption transformed into melancholy. They could both hear screams echoing in the distance, reminding him of someone being torn to bits,

"They're going to die out there, James," Caleb said, not removing his gaze.

"Better out there and than in here."

James looked over at Caleb and Caleb looked back at him,

"You don't really believe that do you?" Caleb asked.

James didn't answer. He didn't need the pressures of feeling responsible for possibly dooming these people even more. Suddenly, their attentions were grabbed by something quickly coming in behind them from afar.

"James! Caleb!" They heard Olivia shouting.

Olivia was limping and had blood seeping through the garments that beautifully wrapped around her head. Quickly, she reached them and fell into their grasps,

"What the hell happened to you?" Caleb asked.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," she reassured, "Where's Mikey?"

"He's hidden inside the house," Caleb pointed.

"How many of those psychos are there?" She asked, sounding less hopeful than she did when she started.

"I-I don't know," Caleb scratched his head, "Ten?"

"I managed to take down three of them. One of the girls sneaked up on me, but I stabbed her in the arm and managed to get away."

"That leaves us with three more," James interjected.

"Wha-but...can't we just leave?!" Caleb asked in frustration.

"LOOK OUT!" James warned.

Gunshots were rapidly fired at them and they all dove to the pavement with the help of being pushed apart by James. Caleb darted back to the house as quickly as he could to keep watch over Mikey. Meanwhile James and Olivia went in an opposite direction of the road and hid along the walls of the houses and some cars. It was the three top ranking members of the entire district: The first three horsemen who transported Mikey and Caleb there. The trio consisted of the notable Englishman, the hormonal chick who Caleb remembered speaking with at the dumpster, and Huxley, the main man with the black bandanna. They immediately split up and the girl sneaked around the back and went into the house after Caleb.

* * *

She entered the house and avoided making any sounds so she could take him by surprise, however her intentions weren't to kill him, but to keep him for a beneficial purpose. She walked down into the cellar where the slaves use to be and was surprised to see the dead body of her comrade and a few others she barely cared about. Returning to the main floor, she heard footsteps run past her and quickly make their way up the stairs of the house. Out of fear, she irrationally shot at the ceiling. Catching her breath, she regained focus and continued her search,

"So this is how you thank me, Caleb?" she slowly walked through the corridors and scanned everywhere with her assault rifle, "I liked you Caleb. Huxley and I saw something in you no one else did!" she slowly walked up the stairs, "You could have been one of us! Is this is how you treat someone who got you and your little buddy extra food?!" She followed the noises to a cabinet in the hallway and lowered her rifle, "Well I've got your friend. Maybe that'll get you out."

She heard soft crying and came to the conclusion that Mikey was linked with Caleb like always. Opening the cabinet, a sobbing Infected looked up and jumped out before she got the chance to pull her trigger. It leaped on top of her and her piercing screams were heard through the house as she struggled to fight off the Infected. Without much effort, the Runner overpowered her and delivered might blows to her chest. It broke a few ribs and a collarbone, causing blood to spout of her mouth. After it was finished dealing the damage, the bit into her neck and ferociously returned to breaking fragments of her face. Her screams became choked up with blood and she instantly died once her nasal bone was crushed and fractured into her skull.

* * *

Olivia and James were being held off by the Englishman while Huxley disappeared. Bullets were rapidly fired at them while they both hid behind vehicles. He stood in the open, coming closer and closer to the vehicle James hid behind. The shattering glass of the windows eventually caused James to lay flat on the ground and guard his head. He picked his head up and looked over at Olivia who was about six cars down. Looking back underneath the car, James could see the Englishman approaching the car. However, his bullets stopped firing.

"Shit!" he cursed.

He was quickly reloading his gun, and Olivia, who had some distance, stood up to fire a bullet from her rifle. Realizing she didn't have enough time to get into position, she fired a bullet, but missed. She jumped back down once the gunman finished reloading and started to retaliate. She looked at James' position and realized that he was nowhere to be found. She searched around for him in distraught and heard a round of separate gunshots being fired. Looking through a small space between the parked cars, Olivia witnessed the Englishman yelp and fall to the ground—both of his boots were covered in blood and shot through multiple times. She had yet to understand things, but she took her chance to confront him. Quickly, Olivia hopped out from behind the vehicle with her sniper rifle and pointed it directly at the gunman,

"Don't. Fucking. Move," she ordered.

Although he did what he was told, she shot him clean in the chest. He died with his eyes horrifically open, staring directly at her. Staring back, she found it difficult to cope with him losing his life like this. What did those eyes see that made him turn this way? It said so much.

She continued to search around for James and heard him grunting from beneath the car he previously hidden behind. She was impressed by his improvisation and walked towards the vehicle to help him out from underneath. While they showed each other evidence of their elation, they were shaken by a gunshot coming from the house. Olivia heard Mikey scream and she was the first to charge into the house.

Once they entered the house, they saw Mikey's face buried in his knees. Beside him was the head of Huxley and his torn bandanna. Caleb weakly laid on the floor beside him. He had a dislocated shoulder.

"Michael!" Olivia called, choking up from tears. Mikey looked up at Olivia and sobbed hysterically with notable marks wrapped around his neck. He quickly stood up and ran into her arms. She rubbed his head and touched his face, "Are you okay?!" she asked while sobbing and rocking with him.

James looked over at Caleb, who was laying soundlessly on the ground. They both gave each other an affirmative nod and Caleb slowly drifted in and out of slumber, blacking out.


	14. Chapter 13 - Pennsylvania

The outcome of the skirmish in the quarantine zone resulted in Mikey and Caleb having to suffer the most out of the four. Mikey had faced incredible trauma, and hadn't really spoke much despite being reunited with Olivia and being in what he called home. At night he would whimper in his sleep from nightmares and he had a hard time sleeping alone. Besides, sleeping in the cellar was something thing that became very uncomfortable for him. Olivia understood that he needed time to recover and cope with all the bloodshed and violence he had been exposed to. It was just that this was something completely new to her and she didn't expect it although she should have; you had to expect everything in this damned world.

Caleb, on the other hand, suffered from a minor concussion and dislocated shoulder. After James helped put his shoulder back into place, Caleb did nothing but lay in bed for about four days. James watched over Caleb, slightly envious that he couldn't sleep that much against his own will. However, to James' own surprise, he was pretty savvy when first aid counted most. He was most thankful for all the magazines he read and the training that the military had given him to deal with in situations like these.

For about two whole weeks, James made sure that he and Caleb was more than prepared to resume their travels. Caleb got back his belongings and James had stolen enough ammo for himself, but only because the camp had enough to take out an entire militia. The serial numbers also implied that it all belonged to the military, but James never understood why it was left in the possession of those monsters. He was taught that the military always took their critical belongings during an emergency evacuation, including ammo— _especially_ ammo. Olivia went out on a whim and incriminated the military. She traced back to her story and began to make sense of things,

" _...they abandoned us and gave up the district to those fuckers because they were getting tired of doing their fucking job! That explains why the soldiers were nowhere to be found when the invasion happened. We needed them and they knew it was coming!_ " he remembered her arguing to the point where she turned red.

He had never seen Olivia so furious before. Of course, James was offended and defended his brave brothers and sisters...even if it he did believe it. Hell, the captain of Boston wants him dead because god-knows-what. There was no doubt that he was in denial, but he knew he could believe the military was heaven sent if he tried hard enough. It was all a stirring mix of emotions. Since James identified as a soldier, he didn't want to agree that he was a thug with a military badge. He _did_ agree that the soldiers in Boston weren't the ideal defenders, but that's why he had his bets on Harrisburg.

They were back in the apartments they initially camped in. James was in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of an old porcelain toilet with an absent lid. Carefully avoiding himself from slipping into the waterless bowl, he extended his leg out until it rested up on the ledge of the bathtub. He winced as he rolled up the the hem of his pants all the way to his knee and examined his unforgettable wound he received back in Boston. He partially unwrapped the bandage around it and observed its state—it took longer than he expected for a gunshot wound to fully heal. He felt it was healing progressively well until he arrived in Albany. Now, it was beginning to become irritated again. Up until now, he had never felt more convinced that he should go home and get proper rest. He got himself together and exited the bathroom to search for Caleb. He walked to a separate door that was down the hallway. The door was left ajar and James naturally opened it after hearing shuffling coming from the inside. His eye met Caleb in the middle of the bedroom, in nothing but gray boxer briefs. His back, chest, and stomach had small blue and purple bruises and scrapes. Completely unaware, Caleb turned around with his recently cleaned shirt in hand and jumped once he looked up and took notice of James. Jerking up his arm that was still recovering from dislocation, he winced.

" _Fffffuck_!" He enunciated violently. He looked over at his shoulder and rotated it slowly, "Why do you like to do that?" Caleb questioned. James desperately searched for the words that wanted to come out of his mouth but failed to speak. Caleb furrowed his eyebrows and shot a bothered look while putting on his shirt and rolling it down his chest and stomach. He stood still and watched James for a couple of seconds before speaking again, "The hell's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," James said, shaking his head back to reality.

"Okay, well, do you mind? I'm getting dressed," he turned around reaching for his pants resting on the sill of a cracked window, "We know you like being a nudist and all but..."

James looked at Caleb from behind and took notice of his model-like legs. James was cautious of his thoughts and thought nothing unusual about it, but he realized Caleb had an attractive body underneath all that clothes he usually wore—especially that annoying sweater. At first he felt a little ashamed to think like that, but it was nothing but a compliment.

"Um, how's your arm?" He cleared his throat right after. He glanced away, hoping that would be enough 'privacy' for the young man, "A-and your headache?"

"Better…" Caleb plainly said with his back still turned.

"Okay, well we're hitting the road tomorrow, so be ready."

"Oh…" Caleb said while putting each leg through his joggers, "I actually forgot about that."

"Yeah," James nodded, getting a gist of disappointment from Caleb's tone.

James looked back up. Without exchanging any more words, an awkward silence came over them both. He followed up by closing the door behind him and rested on it with a heavy exhale. The internal conflict was beginning to return.

* * *

Olivia, James, Caleb, and Mikey joined in Olivia's place for their last meal together. To assume that they would never be seeing each other again was heartbreaking, especially for Mikey. James offered her the chance to join them on the road one last time, but she came up with her own resolutions to find somewhere else for herself and Mikey; a place where they could feel safe at all costs. She had her doubts at first, but she believed it wasn't impossible. Over dinner, she voiced how thankful she was that Caleb took Mikey under his wing. She was so grateful to have met such a bold duo. They had their differences, but James and Caleb organically worked well together. After a hard work of getting smiles on each of their faces, their dinner eventually came to an unwanted end.

James and Caleb finally returned to their apartment and immediately fell asleep to get an early start in the morning. This time, they slept with both of their heads on the same end of the bed. James was already resting on his stomach, whereas Caleb stared directly at the ceiling. Just as James began to doze off, Caleb oddly turned his head to look at James,

"Thank you..." he genuinely said out of the blue.

James opened his eyes and blinked a few times, double checking to see if he weren't delusional.

"Hm...?"

"Thank you," Caleb repeated without struggle.

"Oh," James softly chuckled, "You're welcome."

Normally, it would have hit him harder, but James was too exhausted to really give it much thought. He turned his head in the other direction and shut his eyes. Caleb turned around and slept on his side, having their backs face one another. This was it–Their time together was coming to an end. It had Caleb wishing that he had never participated in ambushing Boston with the fireflies...and that was saying something. Then again, he would have never met James.

* * *

"It's time to get a move on," he heard James' voice fade in and out, "Come on, Caleb. I've been trying to wake you up for the past thirty minutes…"

He felt a repeated tap on his foot that eventually led to a small tickle. The tingle made Caleb's foot jerk upwards. He opened his eyes and rolled them until they glared at James, who was squatted at the end of the bed and fully dressed.

"You look like you're shitting…" Caleb teased.

After resting his head back down on the mattress, James retaliated by quickly shooting up and grabbing Caleb's entire foot and trying to pull him out of bed. Caleb tried to kick his foot loose and basically cried uncle for him to let go. Since Caleb pretty much slept in his clothes, there wasn't much to do except wake up. James was so eager to leave that he already had a bucket of water prepared for Caleb to freshen up with. Caleb climbed out of bed, went into the bathroom and took care of his hygienic business, which included brushing his teeth. After he was finished, he walked out with his belongings. He noticed James resting on the wall right beside the bathroom door with his heavy arms crossed and eyes closed.

"Ready," Caleb scared purposely.

James shot open his eyes and slowly came to his senses,

"What took you so long?" James yawned.

"Sorry."

James and Caleb strolled through their temporary home, getting one last look at everything. Although everything wasn't a pretty sight, the one thing they agreed that they would miss most of all was the mattress. If only they could fold it and place it in their book bags, they would have no problem leaving this mess of a place. They exited the house and sealed the door shut behind them. Olivia and Mikey were both sitting on the porch like early birds, looking out at the autumn landscape. The sun illuminated all of the orange colors, making everything lush and vibrate to take in. Once Olivia heard the door slam behind them, she and Mikey turned around and stood up.

"You're leaving?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah…" James admitted, sounding a little disappointed.

After a dome of silence overcame the party, Olivia pulled both boys in each arm and hugged them. Their heads looked at each other as they hung over her shoulders. James let out a heartfelt chuckle while Caleb was in the midst of his suppressed emotions. She pulled herself away and apologized by explaining that she could no longer control it. She wanted to give them a hug since last night, but they were so eager to hit the sack. Caleb leaned to the side and looked behind her and noticed Mikey a few feet away. Initially, Caleb saw the youngling as a liability and a reason to get Olivia killed. However, it was hard to admit that Caleb would really miss having the kid around. Although the toothless smile would have some time reappearing, it was something that would never leave Caleb's (and undoubtedly, James') mind. After spending so much time with him, he felt like an transparent bond formed between the two despite their _major_ differences. Caleb walked up to Mikey and knelt down to his level. Thinking of ways to be affectionate, he reached up and grabbed Mikey's small hand.

"Hey, Mikey," he somewhat sang, cheerfully shaking his hands.

"Hi…" he responded dryly.

"You know I'm leaving today right?"

Mikey silently nodded. Caleb was going to speak again, but Mikey was quick to speak up,

"B-but...c-can't you stay a little longer?" he stuttered anxiously.

"Nah…" Caleb shook his head, "It's my turn to get James' home now."

Mikey walked closer to Caleb and hugged him, wrapping his tiny arms around his neck. His small fingers tensed and curled, grabbing the loose hood of Caleb's top.

"I'll miss you," he said sorrowfully, trying to stifle back tears.

Caleb reached up with one arm and pulled him tighter. Once he realized that his emotions might have finally gotten the best of him, Caleb placed a halt on the embracement and pulled himself apart from Mikey. Giving a small nod and a forced, yet heavy smile, he walked back to James with his head down. The smile instantly vanished and Caleb's face fell subdued. Both adults knew Caleb encountered his least favored feelings, and knew he didn't want to show it. They just didn't fully get why.

James gave his farewell and best wishes to Mikey as well, and as an act of friendship, they both traded their caps with one another. Even if James' head was too big for Mikey's hat, he took it anyway and placed it in his backpack. Memorabilia was something very important to James, if he didn't emphasize it enough earlier on. Before finally separating, Caleb finally lifted his eyes from the ground and gave a crinkled, folded piece of paper to Olivia. Once her eyes rested on the paper and read what was written on it, she leaned in and gave him one last hug and a friendly peck on the cheek. With misery eventually swelling up under both of his eyes, Caleb turned awat and walked off, similar to storming away from an argument.

The soldier and the Firefly walked on separate sides of the cold road. Although James looked back to wave multiple times at Olivia and Mikey before they fully shrunk into oblivion, Caleb just couldn't bring himself to do the same.

* * *

It had been about two days since the departure and it had been abnormally quiet between the two. An unimaginable amount of discomfort placed itself between them, and they usually found themselves split far apart from one another. It was a very chilly night and they both failed to find shelter. They crossed into a strange part of town earlier, where nearly all the houses and shops were filled with Infected. For their own safety they crossed far out into a forest with a maze of towering trees. They discovered a pond and decided it was best to camp there for the night.

James was usually the one to bark first and he knew that it was something Caleb feared despite the fact that he could stand his own ground. But there was something about Caleb's mood that made James feel really uneasy and guilty. Since they arrived at the pond, Caleb sat by the pond, hooded and hunched up with his back turned to the campfire James took nearly all night to put together. James grabbed a wooden branch from his side and poked the fire, making sure that the ignited sticks were in the right position once the smaller ones burned out. James lifted his head and looked at Caleb, this time worried,

"Caleb," James called out, shivering slightly after a strong wind blew in, "Get over here, aren't you cold?"

Caleb wasn't warm, but probably the least cold since he had on a large heavy sweatshirt. He shook his small head, but the hood was big to indicate any message to James from behind. Therefore, James believed he was being ignored and took slight offense to it. The hooded Firefly could've cared less though.

About an hour later, Caleb finally picked himself up, went by the campfire, laid down, and rested his head on his back pack. James sat up, taking it as a sign of something monumental. A faint smile appeared on his face and he positioned himself to speak with him, but Caleb didn't bother looking at him. Caleb glanced over and noticed the vanishing of James' smile,

"I should of stayed. I should've stayed with them," Caleb said randomly as if it was clawing to get out all this time, "Now, I'm gonna be all alone again,"

James silently sat across from him and looked out into the pond since he couldn't bring himself to look at Caleb's internal suffering. He knew what it felt like to be alone, but due to Caleb's personality, being alone was something he became so accustomed to. However, just because you've become suitable for that life, doesn't mean one actually wants to live it. Just because people all adapted to co-exist with the Infected didn't mean they wanted to see and fight them everyday. After a moment of pondering on what to say next, James finally responded and it took a lot of courage in him to say so,

"Why don't you go back?" James asked, fiddling with his shoelaces.

Caleb gave a look of hopelessness and exhaustion,

"I can't," he said tossing his arms to the side.

"Why not?"

"They're probably gone already...besides I'm only with you so we can have a better chance of surviving out here, remember?"

James may have taken it one way; but Caleb wasn't concerned of his own safety; he was concerned for James' at this point. Although the guy was built like a soldier, he was the type of fool who didn't know where to draw the line—that, within itself, was enough to get James killed. 'American grit' meant nothing.

James paused again, suddenly hit by a question he was too selfish to even consider earlier on. His brain processed his thoughts into words, and it escaped his lips out of concern,

"W-what are you going to do after I get to Harrisburg?"

"That's confidential," Caleb said back, mimicking what James first said when he was asked why he had to leave Boston and go to Harrisburg. That, there, was enough to quit James from asking anymore questions. Caleb picked up a sharp rock and began to draw little images in the dirt beside him, "I just hope I make it alive out there."

"But you've always made it back in one piece when you went on those lone-runs back in Boston."

Caleb sighed in frustration,

"That doesn't matter!" he said, violently tossing the rock into the pond, "That's all luck! I was alone _sometimes_. I would meet up with fireflies to help me out, but that's all just fucking luck," he spoke once more before finishing but sounded much more disappointed, "And luck runs out."

"Well, aren't the fireflies your new _family_?" James asked, specifically putting air quotes around the word 'family'.

"Well...yeah, but they're as much as my family as the military is to you," Caleb cleverly summed up.

Again, James shut his mouth. He found it thought provoking that Caleb could simply look at his beloved militia objectively, something James couldn't bring himself to do about the military; because he was too busy generalizing. He thought whatever bad thing said about the military reflected upon him...but he began to realize more than ever that that wasn't true. Maybe that's what Caleb and Olivia had been trying to hint to him this entire time. Maybe it was one of the reasons he was still alive, and the same could be said for Caleb. They were simply individuals. They were small components of a really big picture.

During that night, a Clicker searched around endlessly for the two bodies it thought it had just discovered. It was salivating and roaring to itself, hopefully to alert any other Infected in the area, but they were incapable of that kind of intelligence. It's unfortunate doom caused the fungal growl to plate itself over the host's eyes. However, it was fortunate for others, who could use it to their advantage. Within a split second, it's head was separated from its body and rolled off its shoulders like a boulder down a mountain. Caleb breathed heavily and looked back at James who laid sound asleep on the blanket of patchy grass. The fact that someone could sleep in the middle of the woods without any thoughts of dying was either an idiot or with someone they trusted their life with. It could be flattery, but Caleb took it as something else.

He flicked his blade at the ground and the small droplets of blood could be heard hitting the surfaces of the trees, dirt, and rocks. He walked back to their dying campsite James rested at and looked at his katana. He took notice that his sword was beginning to become dull and once he caught a vague reflection of his face, personal flashbacks ensued within him. Slowly backing out of it, he turned to see about five dead Clickers and two dead Runners scattered around the trees. Caleb would be lying if he said he didn't lure some of them there to purposely kill them, but some eventually caught on to his game and it began to get exhausting. Surprised by more screaming out in the distance, Caleb sat on the grass and interlocked his fingers in them. Like grabbing Earth's hair, he pulled them out little by little out of anxiety. He wanted James to get the best sleep he could get but it was becoming risky.

Putting the sword back in its scabbard, he used the hilt of his sword to tap James' thigh and then his kneecap. James opened his eyes ever so slightly and peered at Caleb. Unsure if he was awake in the dim light, Caleb continued to nudge him,

"What?" James moaned, rubbing an eye.

"Oh, you're awake. Sorry," he quickly apologized, pulling the hilt away, "We can't stay here…" Caleb whispered, "It's too dangerous."

James turned his head up from his book bag and saw about six bodies scattered across on the ground with missing limbs. Shocked, James jumped up and looked at Caleb like he was insane,

"You waited until you killed fifteen Infected to tell me that?"

"Not fifteen. Sev–"

"Shh!" James interrupted by putting up his hand, "Come on!"

James stomping out the remains of the campfire and grabbing his backpack. Still drowsy, James stumbled over things while he quickly marched away from the campsite. Caleb involuntarily followed and looked back every ten seconds to make sure they weren't being followed.

They wished it didn't have to come to this. Returning back to main road beyond the forests, James noted that he had seen two porta-potties down the road,

"No. No fucking way…" Caleb said, looking more horrified than he's ever been around an enemy.

As he voiced his disapproval, Caleb didn't have much of a choice. James wasn't going to postpone another day just because the night owl didn't get any sleep over a porta-potty. There was a row of four upright porta-potties, the fifth one being thrown on its side. With each of their flashlights powered on, they each looked into separate porta-potties, hoping that they would find the cleanest one before the other. James looked into the first one, which had to be the most vicious sight he had ever seen. He gagged as a reflex and instantly shut the door. Next, he looked into the second and saw a dead body with maggots and flies living in its eye sockets and opened mouth. This time he quietly closed the door as if he didn't want to disturb the dead. Looking into the third one, there was no signs of water in the bowl, but there were solid pieces of decaying wastes inside. Closing it he moved on to the fourth, where Caleb already stood triumphantly at the door. He claimed it as the cleanest one and didn't want risk losing it before moving on to the other ones. Just to clarify that he got the shortest end of the stick, James checked the fourth stall.

He, indeed, got the short end of the stick.

"Come on," James groaned, looking down at Caleb, "Can't we share it?"

"I don't think both of us can fit in a portable bathroom, James…" Caleb expressed in disbelief, following James movement and placing his palm out to stop him, "It's just shit...besides, you've got a gas mask."

James looked at Caleb as if he were some sort of genius. He would've never thought to use his gas mask. Thankfully it was decaying shit because he didn't think a gas mask could filter out such a fresh smell. James reached into his book bag from the side, pulled out the gas mask, and put it on. He looked down at Caleb and spoke,

"How do I look?"

"Like a loser who has to sleep with shit tonight," Caleb joked in his usual manner.

James amped his arm up and delivered a jab to Caleb's shoulder. He intended for it to be playful but it was a little stronger than he expected. To make matters worse, it was the shoulder Caleb recently dislocated. Although the shoulder was relatively healed, he still had some remnants of injury left over. After James realized how strong his hit was, his eyes flew open and his jaw dropped. Caleb let out a quiet squeal and held his shoulder. He tightened his lips and exhaled sharply through his nose before shooting two separate glares at James,

"I-I-I'm so, sorry. I forgot! I didn't mean for it to be that hard," James spoke so quickly, it didn't sound like English.

"Goodnight," Caleb said, dramatically holding his arm as he stormed off and slammed the porta-potty behind him, "Man, you're such a jackass sometimes!" James heard him say behind the door.

"I'm a jackass?"

"Mhm."

James groaned to himself while looking at the sky, almost like he was talking to God. He removed the gas mask and walked to the fourth porta-potty, resting his forearm on it.

"I'm sorry, Caleb…" he apologized through a jerk smile. He received no response. After a moment of silence, featuring some midnight chirps, he thought of what to say next, "Lighten up, tonight might be our last night together," he placed his ear to the door and listened closely—he could hear shuffling coming from inside when he was suddenly hit on the ridge of his brow bone by the opening of the door. He dropped the gas mask and jumped back after seeing a literal flash of light. After he regained his vision, he rested his fingers on his brow and looked up at Caleb, "See, you got me back," he said.

Reaching out for a with his separate handshake, probably settling their 100th truce; this time for something more high school. They both knew it wasn't on purpose, but Caleb reached out and shook it. However, he couldn't let go and he looked up at James who continued to keep grasp,

"Are you tired?" James asked.

"Not really."

"Then let's do something fun before tomorrow…"

Caleb finally slipped his hand free from James' hold, giving himself an Indian burn in the process,

"Fun?" Caleb repeated, "Jeez, I haven't heard that word in a long time. And there's nothing 'fun' around here…"

"We'll improvise."


	15. Chapter 14 - Exit

The previous night was beyond explanation, therefore it was bizarre. After their handshake, it was like the spirit of two preteens emerged from the noble survivors. One virtuous and ignorant, the other indecent and wise; they both shared something, which was bringing out something within each other that they hadn't seen come out of themselves in a very long time. It was a list of things: Channeled innocence, the thirst for fun, and the need to feel human. Granted, they both had different ways of expressing it, but their night ended with laughter (mild laughter on Caleb's part).

They wasted loads of toilet paper from the porta-potties and toilet papered abandoned houses, telephone poles, and a nearby gas station. In that very same gas station, James found a cigarette box with only one menthol flavored cigarette in it. Having a difficult time lighting it, he eventually smoked the entire thing for a mature yet rebellious feel. He coughed several times and even offered a pull to Caleb, but he denied it. He heard they did terrible things to the body. James, who was educated on the topic, confirmed that they made you sick, but he knew one little cigarette was harmless. Besides, it made him warmer than he expected it to. He still had on that plaid shirt Caleb found for him, and it was doing no good in the cooling climates.

"Not true. They can get you addicted,"

"Well, you can get addicted to alcohol and you drank that," James defended.

That part was true—not only the part about getting addicted, but the part about Caleb drinking. He despised the taste but experiencing drunkenness was something now crossed off his bucket list. He was a little tipsy and his speech was beginning to get a little slurred. He could walk, but he slowly teetered from side to side while he stood in one spot, able to be moved by the softest breeze. Of course they had their encounters with Infected, but slaying them was a piece of cake, if anything it was much easier. On the contrary, they experimented with 'fun' ways of killing the Infected. Of course, this was Caleb's idea for fun and James joined like a peer-pressured conformist. They tossed firecrackers in restrained Clicker's mouths, pushed Runners into the water to see how quick they could paddle...which they couldn't—it was a bunch of pseudo psycho stuff. But it was only acceptable because they were Infected and murdering Infected wasn't out of the ordinary. Once you killed, you could always kill, so the terms 'psychopath' and 'murderer' were very subjective ones.

They found a car that only worked for a couple of seconds. They could only get it out of the gas station garage and right off into the road before it shut down completely. Next they found some spray paint in the trunk and drew ugly pictures that they considered murals of art. James possessed colors such a purple, black, and yellow and sprayed over windows and on the pavement. He drew pictures of guns and dead Infected, and never forgot to put his autograph which was an ugly "J" that looked like a dented fishhook. Caleb had white and blue colors, and spent an alarming amount of his time just to create two large letters on the parking lot. He wrote "C&J" and added details to give them a 3D effect. James, who Caleb pleaded not to ruin his work of art, added two faces on the side that resembled them. Finally satisfied, the boys carried on, but the rest of the night was a blur. The rest of the alcohol kicked in and Caleb remembered falling on his side and reaching up for James to carry him like he were some sort of baby. Stealing a laundry cart from a nearby laundromat, James placed Caleb inside and wheeled him off. They were lucky to make it safe to their stalls that night.

The next afternoon, Caleb woke up with a moderate hangover. To make matters typical, James placed him in the third stall he avoided to sleep in, but Caleb was too hungover to kill him. He and James returned to the gas station, only to see how much damage they really caused. There was a pile of clothes James remembered dumping and, for some unknown reason, setting on fire with the remainder of the matches; Caleb's graffiti job didn't turn out as great as he thought; and James had a cut on his hand from punching glass. It was a crazy night, but it was therapeutic and all that junk. It was their way of releasing stress and emotion. With some help from a half-attentive Caleb, James wrapped his hand from a first aid kit found in the basement of the gas station and even redid his leg,

"Sheesh," Caleb said hoarsely after witnessing James' gunshot wound.

"Yeah," James forced a laugh, "I don't think it's getting better. I mean, it was before! Just not anymore..."

"We did a real number to this place last night," Caleb spoke, taking bites from a stale wafer bar.

James chuckled and looked back down at the counter he was resting on. He proceeded to orient the positions on his map with a marker. He shook it furiously until he realized that it was no longer working. He tossed it to the floor and looked at Caleb, preparing to announce their resuming travels,

"Alright so…" he paused after, realizing Caleb's current groggy state.

"What?" Caleb asked after a swallow, "Did you want some or...?" he asked, showing him the empty wafer wrapper in his palm.

"No, no, it's not that. Aren't you hungover?"

"Hungover?" Caleb scoffed, giving him a blank stare. After a pause, he spoke again, "...hungover, um. Hungover what?"

"You don't know what Hungover is do you?" James asked. After Caleb didn't answer, he continued, "It's just a post-drunk feeling you get when you drink heavily, lightweight."

"Well I'm fine," he said slouching more comfortably in the chair with his legs slightly open.

"I just don't think it's safe for you to be traveling out there."

"Pff!" Caleb dismissed with the fling of his arm, "I'm fine."

James continued to evaluate Caleb and could see the drowsiness in his eyes. His blinks were slow and his eyes were heavy. He silently cursed to himself wishing that he should've seen this coming after he allowed Caleb to drink last night. Drinking was something James was beginning to take up as a habit back in Boston, so hangovers were nothing new to him. If anything, he became so accustomed that he learned how to handle some hardcore liquor. Seeing Caleb experience the slightest discomfort from the hangover was enough to make James change his mind.

"Well, let's just stay back a bit until you feel a little better."

"James, I'm fin–"

"I don't care," James instantly walked off and left the gas station, the bell ringing as he exited.

From where Caleb speechlessly sat, he watched James walk to the stalled car they left parked out in front and sit in the passenger's seat. Using the levers underneath the seat to push it backwards, James kicked his feet up on the dashboard and began to read some magazines he recently found. Caleb was completely taken aback by the fact that James willingly postponed his travels from the mere sign of some hangover. From what Caleb could remember, James didn't even care if his own leg had a bullet shot through it. Sitting in the convenience store on his own, Caleb sat back in his chair and pulled the hood over his head. He had too much pride to admit, but he was thankful that James gave him a chance to recover. He wanted to regain full strength before hitting the road.

* * *

James had a certain spring in his step ever since he had reached a certain exit on the highway, and Caleb envied it. He looked at him specifically as Caleb lagged behind, and he found the change in his attitude completely unfair. Ironically, he thought it was very selfish that James could showcase such excitement in his presence. He felt, for the lack of a better word, forgotten. James had gotten so uppity that he drifted off the road and decided to cut through a large area that consisted of train tracks and abandoned carts. As he brushed past the dried vegetation, he heard a voice call out behind him and he stopped in his tracks.

"James," he heard the notable voice call out.

"Oh…" he said very quietly, more afraid of the reaction he would've gotten if Caleb heard.

He allowed the bushes to whip back and slapped each other as he pulled away and turned to Caleb's direction. Caleb was standing at the edge of where the road cut off, having his hands cuffed around his mouth to enhance his call. He stood at the edge like an invisible barrier was preventing him from entering. James didn't forget about him, admittedly, he just forgot that Caleb was in the position of not being allowed in this area. Regardless, he felt like a complete asshole. He hiked back up the low slope of dirt and stood in front of Caleb. He rubbed the back of his neck and put his hands in his pocket. He rocked back and forth on his heels. By the look on Caleb's face, James could tell he wanted to a proper goodbye,

"Well," he said looking around and lifting his arms as if the city was his presentation, "This is Harrisburg."

"I expected it to look nicer," Caleb crudely expressed, something he did best.

James rolled his eyes and exposed a pearly smile. He thought about how long it took for them to get to this point. He honestly thought that he would've died before reaching his destination. Now that he was here, he remembered his initial plans to double cross Caleb and questioned his morality by wondering if he could bring himself to murder a Firefly he befriended numerous times, liberated from a prison camp, and just vandalized an entire gas station with. He didn't know Caleb's whole backstory and ordeal with the Fireflies, but all he knew was that he grew to close to him. The old James would've thought he was crazy, but he was okay with that,

"I haven't been completely honest with you…" James spilled.

Caleb didn't answer. Instead, he was waiting for a game changer like a deck of cards in his favor.

"Even though I told you I would let you go…" James made a face as if he was disgusted with himself, "I made a promise to make sure I that I killed you once you finished your end of the deal…"

Caleb stood in place, incapable of responding. James could tell he wasn't expecting that. If anything, he was probably wondering what James' next move would be. Acting on it, James reached back and grabbed the revolver from his back pocket. Caleb held his breath after looking so stunned, but he was even more surprised when James presented the gun to him. He exhaled, giving James direct eye contact,

"You want me to kill myself…?"

James sucked his own teeth as a result from hearing Caleb do it a couple of times,

" _No!_ I'm giving it you!"

"I know, I know. I was only kidding…" Caleb attempted to joke one final time. This time a wholehearted smile appeared on his face and he pleasingly looked at the ground, "Typical James. Can't kill a Firefly?"

"Now you smile?" James asked, enjoying it—a full smile at that. It was more radiant than he expected it to be. He thought he would die without seeing it.

"Thanks, but no thanks…"

"You never know when you might need a gun," James said, practically forcing it into Caleb's hands like a beggar, "Or just take it to remember me by," he sighed, "Shoot a Clicker or a-a bird...or something! Name it after me."

After hearing picking up a desperate plea in his voice, Caleb yielded and took the revolver although he doubted he would ever use it. He couldn't make any promises about naming targets after him, as strange as it sounded. After inspecting it closely, he neatly put it into his back pocket and nodded.

"Alright then," Caleb said, looking up at James and setting his backpack comfortably on his shoulders.

James took a couple more steps closer toward Caleb and reached out for a handshake. Caleb reached out and firmly held his hand. Overpowering per usual, James had a difficult time letting go. They shared a smile, which prompted Caleb to anxiously break eye contact. For whatever reason, he felt a strange sensation come over him and he pulled away instinctively.

"Good riddance," Caleb joked. He waved while backing away like an embarrassed boy, "Hopefully we won't have to kill each other if we ever cross paths again."

James gave a soft blink and forced a smile. He performed a gesture with his head that indicated that he also wished the same—an inside joke that only allies of opposing groups could probably understand. As he continuously backing away, he gave a final wave. He had such a difficult time taking his eyes off James, because it meant that they would never see each other again. But he eventually turned away, having his face strictly face the ground. He turned his hood up and swooped it over his head. With his cold demeanor slowly returning to the core of his soul, he quickly and stiffly strutted off.

"Later…" James responded spiritlessly.

James stood in place, dying for Caleb to look back at least once—but he didn't. Eventually, his figure disappeared under the uneven horizon of the road.

* * *

James got right back on track. Instead of cutting through the field of tracks, James continued walking along the path of the abandoned streets. Like an old western, things resembling tumbleweed blew across the roads. He soon reached a tunnel guarded by a large gate. Thankfully, from a distance, James could see the fence being patrolled by a small number of guards. Seeing Harrisburg's zone fully operational was like a gift from the gods. He couldn't imagine experiencing the ordeal Olivia had to.

Clearly, bored of their duties, the soldiers sauntered back and forth, chewing and spitting out dark excess juices from their tobacco. From afar, the guards spotted James. As he walked with an odd swagger, the guards watched him with intense suspicion. About three guards narrowed their eyes at him as he neared closer to them and stopped at the entrance gate. Approaching a guard a bit too close, James was aggressively pushed back and stumbled to the pavement with guns drawn in the process.

"The fuck you want?" Asked a guard he never met before asked.

It seemed like James had been gone far too long to remember military precautions. However, the treatment was better around here (relatively better than Boston, since they'd probably push and shoot you). He looked up at two other guards who surrounded him,

"I-I'm from here," James said, putting his hands up in defense.

"Got any ID?"

"No, see. That's the thing, I'm from Boston and Boston was att–" James stopped speaking, almost revealing what he planned to keep as a secret. He proceeded with a different choice of words, "I'm originally from here. I was transferred to Boston."

"So why aren't you there now?"

"I-I was just coming back to Harrisburg."

"Under whose authority?" the soldier asked, "Doesn't that mean you're abandoning your post?"

James was running thin of lies, but as if getting into Harrisburg was prophecy, he heard a familiar voice call out from behind the gate. It was the fourth soldier who had his back turned the entire time and finally looked to see what the ruckus on the other side was all about,

"James!" the soldier behind the gate called out.

James squinted and took a closer look and saw a tall guy with pale skin, a minimal amount of freckles, thin facial features, and blue eyes. It was his old friend, Al, from preparatory school. Over the three year time span, Al had a full head of short, shaggy, dirty blond hair tied back in a ponytail and an earring on his left ear. He didn't put on too much weight, but his skin looked a little aged compared to James. He was dressed head to toe in military attire. He opened the gate and the other guards at the entrance didn't seem to question him, which indicated that he was ranked higher than them. Armed with a rifle, he jogged towards James and extended a hand to help him up. James, still unable to believe his luck, hadn't said a word. He was aided to his feet and both he and Al gave each other a brotherly hug, roughly patting each others backs,

"Stand down," Al said, somewhat lacking an authorizing demeanor to James, "He's a soldier!"

The soldiers from behind didn't answer. Instead they calmly looked away and reverted back to patrolling aimlessly.

"Wow, look at you, man!" James exclaimed like a giddy child, "It's been so long."

"Hell yeah. Tell me about it," Al smiled. He softly nudged James on his elbow while signalling him to follow, "What brings you back? I thought I'd never see you again."

James spontaneously came up with a lie he thought was believable,

"I was given a chance to relocate by my Captain. I lost my shit on the way here though...I was traveling with another soldier, fucker got into a bad car accident and died—so I traveled by foot here."

" _Walked?_ " Al asked in disbelief, "Come on, let's get you comfortable. You can bunk with me like old times and tell me all about it."

James liked the sound of that. Already, things were going smoothly than they did when he first arrived in Boston. As he walked past the gate and into the tunnel that had its interior lit by various light posts, he looked over his shoulder to catch a quick glimpse of the horizon to see any trace of Caleb out in the distance, but he couldn't see anything that resembled the Firefly. Walking deeper into the tunnel, the gate was slammed shut behind them. They turned in from Herr Street and North 7th Street and walked about another seven minutes. They turned into Reily Street, a block which James hadn't lost a memory of.

Since Al was able to vouch for him, familiar and unfamiliar faces, alike, welcomed James back into Harrisburg without question. Although Al told various people he was from Boston, no one seemed to bat an eyelash, which was relieving to the point where he could just cry. After conversing with a friendly soldier, James continued to follow Al like an excited pup. The zone still contained its usual civilians, appearing all raggedy and rough-looking, but he sensed that the atmosphere was livelier here than in Boston. Sightings of graffiti here and there gave him flashbacks of his time back at the gas station. Lazily rolling his eyes, he looked away, praying there wouldn't be any parallels from the time he spent with Caleb.

"You must be hungry. I know I am," Al said, looking back as James caught up with him, "Rations just sent out bags of porridge and oatmeal to everyone."

They both sounded very good to James right about now. Just the thought of some thick, creamy oats and porridge running down his throat made his mouth water. He didn't care how often he ate it, but he could run of that stuff all day. In the middle of his pleasuring thoughts, he bumped into Al's shoulder blade. He stopped and looked at Al who seemed distracted by something. Following to see what it was, it was an old green house—the orphanage that he and James grew up in. They grew up separately, and were finally introduced to each other when they were teenagers. It was until they both attended military school that they spent time to get to know each other,

"Memories man…"

"Hell yeah…" James replied, "You have _no_ idea, how great it is to see you," James said after giving a sharp 'whew'.

They walked for a couple of more minutes and James, before he knew it, was sitting across from Al at his dining room table. His living space was a bit cramped, but that didn't really matter. What mattered was that he was able to have two massive servings of oatmeal and a place to lay down. He felt like his stomach was going to burst; the best feeling he could ever imagine,

"Still working out, I see?" Al commented after noticing his former teammate still possessed the ability to eat without coming up for air.

It was partially from vigorous training, but mostly from combating and killing Infected all month. James nodded with a mouthful of oatmeal and scooted out of the chair. Picking up his plastic container from the table he walked over to the sink and placed the container in clear basin that was already filled with soapy water. James walked back like a blind man with his hands out in front of him as he neared the sofa couch and threw himself on it. He let out a sigh of relief and licked the corner of his mouth spotless,

"That was so good I just might orgasm…" James joked, complementing the oatmeal. To others, it wasn't that great, it was just a pile of slop in a plastic container. But you had to be the true definition of starving in order to enjoy just about anything edible.

"Please don't," he heard Al laugh from the table as he sipped some cold milk, "So," Al emptied his plastic cup and swallowed with a final gulp. His milk mustache was barely visible as it was camouflaged in with his skin tone, "We're going to have to get you transferred through the system since you're stationed here now."

While rubbing his bare belly, James paused and opened his eyes like an alarm just went off. Being processed through a system might have been the sealing of his definite doom. James, personally, didn't know the process of transferring since it had limited access in all zones, but it held important records. Only god knew what was on James' record. Eventually, the world around him came back into motion and the noises around him became known again. He calmed himself down and changed the topic, hopefully to gain some trust out of Al,

"So, like, what are you?" James asked vaguely.

"What am I?" Al asked confused, "Human? Male? 5 feet, 12 inches?"

James' couldn't help but laugh obnoxiously. He felt like he could return to his normal self around Al. Caleb was a bit judgmental whenever James displayed any signs of who he truly was. And after those exact thoughts, Caleb began to fade like an unimportant memory, being discredited for all the times he served as legitimate company,

"I meant your rank. You were calling some shots back there," James said as he pointed his thumb to the back of the room wall.

"I'm just first class…not a big deal. There's plenty of us around here."

Al got up from his small dining room table and sat in a computer chair that was in James' sights. He casually spun around and stopped,

"I'm still an average private…" James said, sounding disappointed. He'd be embarrassed if it were anyone else.

"That's nothing to feel bad about. At least you're...y'know, helping the state out. This country is shit without us."

"Ha, that's funny coming from you," James mocked as Al paused, looking dumbfounded. James carried on to conclude the missed point, "Because you're all about the Fireflies, remember? You were all 'Fireflies this' and 'Fireflies that."

James thought back to when both of them were in military school. Al was such a rebellious teen that he spent more time being punished than actually learning. It was no wonder he and James got along so well because they were basically a pair of misfits in everyone else's eye. However, they were the misfits that gave themselves a public name. They weren't disliked by anyone, they were just _those_ two that everyone saw as ambitious trouble makers, and even if it sounded like an oxymoron, their instructors felt bad for them most of the time and showed mercy. Al use to sneak pictures of people he 'believed' were Fireflies with an old polaroid and he kept them in some old notebook. He almost lost his mind the first time he found a Firefly emblem and to make matters even crazier, the owner of the pendant shared the same last name: Bennett. When Fireflies would hack into radio frequencies (it use to happen a lot back then), Al was the first to turn it up—Al was a Firefly fanatic.

"You know," James began hesitantly, "I actually ran into one…" James half admitted. He paused there just to see the reaction he would get out of Al.

Immediately, Al's face was disinfected of any signs of humor,

"Did you kill him?" he carefully asked. He brought hand to his chin and narrowed his eyes as if he was daring to be answered incorrectly. Al then resumed; denying James' chance to answer, "Because if you didn't I would wonder why the fuck not," he said morbidly.

Al became unrecognizable and all James could do was keep an unclear smile on his face in hopes that he was joking. Just as anticipated, Al was dead serious. He slouched even more in his seat and was still waiting for a response with a wild shake in his leg.

"Relax, man..." James said with a calming tone.

"Did you fucking kill him?!" Al asked with a jerk of his entire upper torso. He whispered sharply in attempt to prevent himself from shouting as much as he wanted to.

"N-n-not me...I-I just...I threw him to the Infected to save my own ass," James lied again as if telling half of the truth did good for anyone.

Al sat back, satisfied by that answer.

"I'm ashamed to even say that I looked up to them. Fucking _ashamed_ ," Al switched the crossing of his legs, "I was just a stupid boy who thought he was someone important. My loyalties lie with the military and the day Marlene is caught, I want to be there to pull the trigger."

"Marlene?"

"Yes, Marlene—leader of the Fireflies?"

"But," James was afraid to ask, "Why the sudden hate?"

Al placed his head down with an exhale and looked back up,

"Because they tried to kill me. After you left, I got into some really deep shit one day and they tried to kill me, okay? I learned my lesson, that's for sure," he and James silently exchanged looks. James was absolutely surprised, or at least acted like he was, "When I told them I wanted to help they told me it wasn't a job for a 'fucking kid'. One of 'em almost shot me because I knew where their hideout was, but I was found by the school sergeants and they shot each other right in front of me. It was a bloodbath, James. I barely made it out alive," Al stood up and lifted the bottom of his shirt and revealed a gunshot scar on the bottom left of his stomach and turned to show another on his back, "This one missed my spine by three inches."

He placed down his shirt and untied his hair. Ruffling through it with his fingers, he showed a permanent parting due to the grazing of a bullet. All James could do was blink. Just when he thought nothing could top his experience, he was beaten to the punch. There was no proper way to respond to that sort of plot twist,

"I'm sorry, man. I'm _really_ sorry."

"Don't be...just be glad that you're back home."

Al looked down at his wristwatch and stood up. His self-given lunch break was nearly over and he had to go back to patrol the fence with the other soldiers before they reported him for being gone for too long (it happened last time). He rolled out of his chair and stood up. He walked towards James who was still resting comfortably on the sofa and patted him firmly on the shoulder and said one final thing,

"The soldiers lack partnership here...we can change the way things are done around here."

James looked up at Al and forced a smile. Looking away just as Al exited the room, James suddenly felt a strange amount of discomfort. But, like always, he ignored his gut feeling.


	16. Chapter 15 - Harrisburg (I)

The ex-convict was already on the freeway, snaking through the clusters of abandoned cars. Dried leaves blew through the streets and crowded up against the concrete barriers on the highway sidelines. He hopped cars, he hopped barriers, and he hopped pay tolls. He ran his fingers against the glass or one particular car, looking to see if there was anything of importance inside. His first three fingertips picked up a green hue after looking at them. He rubbed them clean on his pants and peered inside the car once more. It wasn't important, but he spotted a grey beanie hat that could keep him warm during the frigid winters he'd be expecting to spend alone. Luckily, the vehicle was unlocked. He opened the door and reached in through to the backseat. He didn't know why, but Caleb had the unusual desire to sniff used items out of curiosity. It was his way of telling if someone had worn it one too many times. Usually, that someone was a person with really bad hygiene. He never told anyone this, but he once caught a bad ringworm after wearing an old cap.

After collecting a few more items, he looked through one final car and found a pair of wonky glasses. Although one of the glass lenses were missing, he still decided to put it on and close one eye. He could barely see out of the spectacle, indicating that its previous owner had terrible vision. Taking it off, he laughed silently to himself and turned around, feeling the urge to speak aloud. However, he remembered that he was no longer accompanied. He watched the empty road while twirling the glasses by the temple. Missing a catch, the glasses fell and popped out the other lenses as it hit the concrete. Disappointed, he ignored it and walked off.

Like a bored school child trying to accelerate time, Caleb couldn't keep his hands off of things. He picked up and evaluated nearly everything that came into his sights, and dropped it once it was deemed useless.

Caleb had been a loner plenty of times. Traveling on his own was nothing new. The only thing he found himself doing more often was keeping himself entertained. It was something he learned from the jar head he left behind in Harrisburg. Although the fun wasn't apparent on his face, Caleb kicked around a crumpled ball of paper as if it were a soccer ball. His opponent was the wind; It blew heavy in his direction. Caleb attempted to block the paper ball from blowing out of his hold and gave it one energetic tap. The yellowing ball rolled underneath a nearby car and he instantly dropped down to get it before the wind could. The ball fit perfectly in his palm. It acted as a surprise in need of unraveling. He dug his fingers into the spaces and creases, fighting it open. He rested on the hood of the vehicle and flattened out the paper with both palms. What Caleb saw had him at a loss for words:

" _ **WANTED FOR MILITARY TREASON**_ " was typed in capitals and in a white font with a red highlight. Right underneath that were both pictures of Caleb and James side by side—copied right from their lost military IDs. Beneath their pictures were descriptions: the names they went by, eye color, hair color, speculated age, speculated weight/height, and physical descriptions.

Caleb's 'committed crime(s)' were: _Treason to the US military, espionage, terrorism, and Firefly affiliation_.

James' 'committed crime(s)' were: _Treason to the US military, desertion, first degree murder, and Firefly affiliation._

Caleb looked away from the paper momentarily, trying to gather all of the information James told him; when it finally dawned on him that the information he ever received wasn't clear-cut, Caleb cursed at himself silently. He was a fool to not notice James' strange discretion sooner. He was such a coward in desperate need of redemption, that he blindly agreed to help a rotting soldier to another state. Just like Caleb, James was a wanted man this entire time. He didn't know exactly why, but he would have been better off knowing the truth. The thought of it infuriated him. This whole time he had he traveled with a tremendous amount of guilt only to find out he also traveled with a tremendous liar.

 _I haven't been completely honest with you_ , he remembered, hearing James' voice. But none of what he said matched what was typed on the sheet of paper before his eyes. James' was nothing but a habitual liar. A fabricator. A deceiver. Only an ungrateful jerk-off like James could pull off not being honest when trying to be honest. Glancing back down, he continued to read. The paper finished off with: _Both are wanted **ALIVE**_ _. Reward(s): Lifetime supply of rations and special privileges granted by the US military._

With the poster still in his hand, Caleb leaned forward and rested both of his palms on the hood of the car, unknowingly tearing through the margins as he uncontrollably tightened his fists in anger. Just because someone presented himself as an ally, Caleb put his guard down. Caleb had met some characters in his lifetime, but James definitely took the cake. He paced back and forth thinking about his next step. It was either watch his own back and keep hiking, or go back to Harrisburg to warn James. Not even sparing a minute, he turned on his heel and walked,

"Fucking," he brought his leg back, " _Asshole!_ " and delivered a heavy kick to the license plate of the car. He temporarily limped back to Harrisburg.

* * *

Considering all that James' had endured the past two months, nothing could get better than this. Unable to get as much sleep as he wished, James' was given immediate care on his leg after he revealed his gunshot wound to Al. It would soon be a strange thing that they could bond over. The medic guaranteed that he'd make a full recovery if he continued getting proper rest and taking the antibiotics that were prescribed to him.

He felt like a new man; like a snake that had shed its old skin or an bug that achieved metamorphosis. Face shaven, hair and nails evenly clipped, and face cleansed. His old uniform was thrown out and he was given a new uniform to walk the zone with. He was dressed in a short sleeved shirt with a tight thermal underneath and his utility belt accessorized his pants. Preserving his sizable head, he possessed a helmet with a face shield. Despite wanting to get to work and begin anew, he was denied any heavy work by Harrisburg's General due to being shot in the leg.

He was even approached by numerous sergeants (teachers from military school) who never got the chance to congratulate him for graduating. Ironically, they were the same ones who doubted him just because they figured he was too soft or because he was a companion of Al's. He even ran into old classmates, most of them being mediocre girls who had crushes on him. However, there was one girl named Sylvia who never looked his way in the past. Sylvia gave every guy in the zone blue balls. She was blessed with a beauty mark, one underneath her right eye. She was strawberry blonde with a heart shaped face, green eyes, and a natural pink blush to her cheeks. She was like a mix of a young Nicole Richie and Reese Witherspoon—two women, he had beat off to more than once, in magazines, especially Witherspoon. To James, she might as well have been the offspring to one of them. One night, past curfew, they happened to catch a glimpse of each other simultaneously. Even in a baggy, dirty uniform, she still managed to look delightful and she was the first person in Harrisburg to make James' temperature spike with a mere look. James thought provocatively of themselves together.

"Remember that, huh?" Al asked, coming in from the side with a beer can in a brown paper bag.

James practically drooled, his eyes fixated on Sylvia while she graciously looked over her shoulder. She sat on an overturned milk crate, enjoying drinks with five other soldiers. Apparently, they were suppose to be patrolling the inner-walls. Sylvia turned away and exchanged a couple words to her comrades before standing up. She still possessed a small frame, having signs of slight muscle definition in her forearms as she twisted them.

"I think she's coming over here," Al said while covering the movement of his lips to avoid suspicion.

Some of his beer splashed out of the top of the beer can as he tapped James with his elbow. The fizzy ale splattered on James' boots.

"Al!" James cried softly.

"Ah, dammit. I can't unwaste that," Al groaned, completely ignoring James situation.

Only distracted for a split second, they heard a voice behind them.

"Hey," they heard a feminine voice say. Al turned around and James looked over Al's shoulder, "James, right?" asked Sylvia, appearing before them.

"Uh, yeah," he responded stepping closer.

"Nice to meet you. Hi, Al," Al nodded to his greeting in the middle of their conversation. She looked away from Al and then extended her arm in James' direction, "Sylvia. You probably don't remember me, but I-"

"Of course I remember you. From military school," James replied.

A sly smirk appearing on his face. He reached out and firmly shook her hand. She pursed her pouty pink lips, following up with a small blush. Al took that as his cue and bitterly walked away, leaving both of the soldiers to get accustomed with each other. As time went on, they began walking. They were both unsure on who started walking first, but it was definitely intentional. After a couple of minutes, they ended up somewhere else. They were walking through a thin driveway that served as a backstreet behind some unoccupied houses. Without even realizing it, they spoke for an hour and a half, walking up and down the same street and eventually stopping to rest their feet. They ended their conversation with a joke they could both laugh at,

"See," Sylvia said, playfully tapping James' chest that somewhat bulged through his shirt, "Not all your experiences were bad in Boston."

"Yeah, but I'm just glad to be back here," he shrugged.

"Me too," she said, smiling.

What did she mean by that? She barely even knew him. Regardless if it was true or not, James senselessly brought it and took it as an invitation to advance to some serious flirting. After a moment of strange looks from her, she spoke up again,

"Wait, you have something…" she inched closer to him, and reached up without warning to pick something, that might've fallen from the trees, from his hair.

She was practically pressed up against him, and James couldn't contain his excitement. His body naturally let off enthusiastic body heat, and he could've sworn that her body was reacting the same way. Small tickles of her breath was felt lightly on his neck as she pulled away from him and lowered herself from her tippy-toes. Before she could bring her arm back down to her side, James caught her wrist and the item pulled from his hair was carelessly dropped to the ground. Not fighting it, Sylvia's pupils dilated impulsively as she noticed James lean in closer. Centimeters away from one another, able to almost taste each other's breath, something unthinkable happened: A figure, emerging through one of the backyards of the houses, violently burst through its wooden fence. The blinding sway of the fence caused a loud slap and broke one of the hinges. Pulling away from each other in fright, the lust-birds looked over at where the noise came from. They were both surprised to see a slim, moderately tall male in a gas mask, equipped with a katana on his back. James tilted his head to the side like a wild animal trying to get a better understanding of things. He narrowed his eyes,

"Caleb?" Caleb power walked fast enough to outmatch a Clicker. James continued to converse, "Caleb, what the hell are you—OOF!"

Caleb halted in place, twisted his body and lifted his fist, delivering a sharp blow to spot between James' eye and nose. Spit flew from his mouth on impact, the helmet fell from his head and rolled on the soil covered road. His body spun entirely and he stood bent over, covering his face with both palms. The blow was hard enough for his nasal passage to send a message to his eyes, causing them to water instantly. Taken by surprise, Sylvia reached for her pistol and aimed it at Caleb,

"STAY BACK!" She shouted.

Caleb mocked her by looking her up and down. Anyone pretty could hold a gun and shout orders at you.

"This has nothing to do with you," Caleb rebuked by pointing his forefinger at her.

He continued walking toward James before she dashed and separated them by standing in between. Sounding like a nerdy comic, James tried to calm things down before someone ended up dead. He didn't think Caleb could deflect a bullet at point-blank range, but his money was still on him. He spoke while pinching his nose from atop like a clothespin. He extended his neck out while blood dripped from the tip of his nose and unto the ground.

"It's okay, Sylvia. I…" he took a deep breath, "I'll take care of this."

Sylvia turned around quickly, having her ponytail wag over her shoulder,

"Are you sure?"

James nodded.

Sylvia, with her gun still aimed at Caleb, eased down. She returned her pistol back to its holster and turned to help James to his feet despite their size difference. She pointed out that he was bleeding from one nostril, but he reassured that he would be fine. Sylvia released James, but felt hesitant to leave him alone with some guy she diagnosed as feral. _You haven't seen feral_ , Caleb replied without skipping a beat. With a mix of promises and begs, James told Sylvia that Caleb wasn't a threat and to keep this little encounter to herself. She may have been underestimated plenty of times, but being alive and uninfected was something to show for it. James eventually got to her. She left his eyes, shooting a stinging glare at Caleb. Out of all the things Caleb faced, Sylvia was one of the least threatening. She worked for the US military and Caleb intended on treating her no better. He retaliated by jumping his eyebrows at her like she were some kind of joke. Without moving his head, his eyes followed her until she was completely out of his vision. Her footsteps were heard departing behind him and he looked back up at James.

Once she was out of sight, Caleb was suddenly shoved by the linebacker, Caleb sprang back, prepared for another fight. He tried pushing James, but James stood firm,

"You tryna fuck things up for me already? Was Boston not enough!?" his voice echoed, "HUH?!"

Restraining himself from punching James' again, Caleb reached into his back pocket and pulled out the neatly folded paper he found as a paper ball among leaves on the freeway. He offered it to James. With blood stained digits, James snatched it while they darted sickening stares at each other. After James fully unfolded the paper, he was upset to see what was in his hands. He looked at their very pictures, serving as mugshots on a wanted poster. Two quick drops of blood fell from his nose and landed directly on his black and white photo. Like a cliche thriller, it dripped directly on the center of his own forehead. James brought his wrist up and covered his nose again. He looked around like a paranoid culprit to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. With the same hand holding the paper, James patted his pockets down and eventually Caleb's, who found his reaction very odd,

"T-the hell are you doing?!" Caleb asked pulling away.

"A lighter. Burn it," turning around, he planned on disposing of it somehow.

Caleb thought it would be safer with them than throwing it somewhere in the zone. That would just increase someone else's chances of finding it. He sneaked up behind James and grabbed the paper from him. James quickly turned around and kept his hand out, demanding that the paper be returned. It was detrimental to his confidence to see how much he had to depend on someone else—someone like Caleb for that matter. Taking one last look at the paper, Caleb refolded it and put into his back pocket,

"Caleb…" James gritted his teeth, sounded frustrated.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?!" James asked exhausted, one hand occupying his nose and the other, his hip.

"Oh for fuck's sake, James! The paper says that you're wanted for _execution_. Execution! You told me you were leaving Boston for...I don't know–private matters."

"It _is_ private."

"Forget it," Caleb shook his head, "I can't believe I helped you and I'm trying to help you _again,_ " Caleb scoffed, sounding oddly calm for what just ensued between them.

" _What?!_ What is it now?!" James asked, already beginning to raise his voice. The power. The position of authority. It was all returning back to his head, "I can't keep playing this game with you Caleb—We're. _done_. I'm in Harrisburg you can go home now, we don't need to worry about each other anymore."

Caleb didn't answer. _I worry. And what home?_ He thought. Instead, he turned away and returned into the yard he exited. James, not ever being finished with an argument until some kind of point was made, pursued him in attempts to corner him,

"How the fuck did you even get in here?"

"Snuck in…" he muttered, "This place is too laid back for its own good. I can see why you came back."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" James said feeling offended by both statements.

Caleb planned on exiting the house and going about his own business, even if it was something that was proven to be extremely difficult to do. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard James give a faint wince. With his palm still wrapped around the doorknob, Caleb turned to see James still cupping both hands over his own nose. His hands trembled as he touched what felt like a painful bump. Accompanied with it were blood stains on his chin.

Caleb pulled away from the door and walked up to James,

"Here," Caleb sighed, pulling him to a counter to rest on, "Tilt your head upward."

James did exactly as he was told and Caleb reached into his backpack and pulled out a canteen.

"Where'd you get that?" James asked, interested as he glanced from the corner of his eye.

"Some car on the freeway."

Caleb shuffled through the houses cabinets and drawers like he were a secretary searching for important files. Finding an old white washcloth, Caleb pressed it against the opening of the canteen and turned it over while standing just above the sink. Now partially wet from some water, Caleb advised James to move his hand so he could get a proper clean up. Caleb reached up and softly patted away the dried blood, altogether with fresh blood, from James' upper-lip and nostril. Handing the washcloth to James so he could finish the job, Caleb instructed James to blow his nose to get rid of any clots. Luckily for him, his nose stopped bleeding after a couple of blows. Finally uncovering his nose with his palm and, now red, washcloth, he revealed a nasty swell just on the bridge of his nose. It was like a toy marble was covered underneath his skin.

"How does it look?" He asked while he tilted his face all different angles.

"Fine," Caleb lied.

James searched around the house for something that gave off a decent reflection. Spotting a cabinet with broken glass, James reached in for something that looked like a platter. Nearly having a shard of glass cut into his vein, his arm jerked away as a natural response to pain. Successfully grabbing the platter, he pulled it out, breaking more glass along with it. James held the platter with both hands and looked into it. A bright glare from the moonlight hit his face.

"So—who was the girl?" Caleb asked dryly.

"Sylvia," James said, massaging nose while looking at his distorted reflection.

"Sylvia…" Caleb repeated, "Long-distance girlfriend?"

"No. We went to the same military school. Never spoke to each other until now," he still looked a this reflection, this time trying to magically get rid of the bump by squeezing it, "Why?"

"You guys were kissing," Caleb bitterly said while crossing his arms and leaning on an upright dresser, "I might be in luck if she kisses guys she rarely knows."

"Firstly, fuck you. Secondly, we were about to," he corrected—sounding like a demand. He then switched to a more relaxed tone, and his pitched heightened "but then you came and ruined it."

He placed the platter down on a table beside him and purposely glared at Caleb, who was a couple of feet away. Caleb looked, back tight-lipped and walked off. He was getting tired of the implications that he was purposely ruining things. James learned Caleb well enough like one would a subject. Like a raging storm, he knew the signs of when Caleb was going to throw a temper tantrum. He would always note not to make a certain joke that was probably too intense for Caleb to handle: _Don't tell him he ruined your chances at making love with someone else_ was added to James' mental 'Things-not-to-say-to-Caleb list'.

James quickly hurried over to Caleb and pushed the front door shut before he could exit. Standing behind him, he looked down at Caleb with a mischievous look. The two wrestled like toddlers to get the door open, but Caleb eventually gave up,

"You gotta stop being so sensitive, man…"

"I'm not being sensitive, you're just _insensitive_."

"Can we go a day without arguing?"

"James. I'm _serious_ what are you not telling me?"

James fell silent. With his arm still pressed on the door, he shifted all of his weight to the side and his stance eventually turned into a lean. He looked at the back exit that was still left ajar from when Caleb made his grand entrance. Looking right back at Caleb, he brought his head closer and began to whisper. Caleb listened,

"Look, it happened the day you were caught. I was supposed to be asleep and I woke up in the middle of the night for a drink or something. Then I heard two guards outside the apartment talking about me; saying that Wells wanted me dead, so th-"

"Wait, wait," Caleb cut in, whispering as well, "Wells? Captain Wells?"

"No. Miss Wells, Captain Wells wife— _Yes_ , Captain Wells!" He responded. Although sarcasm was his forte, a vague smirk appeared on Caleb's face while looking away. He was unable to hide how impressed he was with James' smart-ass response. Even though James took notice, he proceeded to tell his story without breaking concentration, "So I planned on leaving the day of your execution. I was going to shoot the other dumb soldier...the one that was playing the music? What was his name…" James snapped repeatedly while recalling back the memory, "Owen—remember him?" He felt Caleb nod in the moonlight shadows, "But that's when that stupid truck hit us. Then they probably found the car accident with Owen's body and with me and you missing—that just added more fuel to the flame. Fast forward a couple months and here we are."

"They think you're a Firefly..." Caleb added, thinking back to the details of the wanted poster.

"I told them I wasn't."

Caleb knew the military wasn't going to believe James. There was war between the military and Fireflies. During wars and times of crisis, people changed, people broke, people murdered, and people betrayed you just to get the upper hand. Why else would Wells want James dead? From the beginning of time, the Fireflies had been trying to warn people about the US military. It was a corrupted force who replied on propaganda and cared for no one but themselves. Although Caleb was right all along, it didn't feel like a victory or an "I told you so" moment; it felt like a huge loss. He leaned on the door with his hands in his pockets just as James did, feeling an unbearable guilt return like a painful jab to the chest,

"This is my fault…and don't even say it isn't."

"Wasn't going to," James joked, trying to lighten the mood, but he failed to have any effect. He brought his arm up and rubbed Caleb's shoulder, "Look, don't worry about it. They should've trusted me to begin with; I see that now. It may be your fault a little, but not _entirely_. Nothing is entirely someone's fault. It's my Captain's fault for not trusting his own soldier. Even thought I still captured you and brought you in, he wanted me dead. There was never any trust...regardless if that cult took us, they still would've killed me. But the most important thing is that we'd both be dead, and we're not. Understand?" He gave Caleb another pat on his arm to gain his attention and at least receive some sort of acknowledgement, but he didn't bother looking up. James grabbed him with both hands and comfortably held Caleb's shoulders, forcibly pulling him closer. James looked down at him, devoid of any anger, "Understand?"

Caleb's only answer was silence, but they both were alerted by the sounds of someone calling James' name from the outside. By the sound and pitch of the voice, James could tell it was Al. But Caleb was frightened by the fact of meeting another soldier. James may have made a pass, but Caleb never would. He was a Firefly and doubted any soldier of any kind would welcome him into their home with opened arms unless they had a gun with the hammer cocked back. Quickly, Caleb took off his katana with the help of James and hid it in a wide cabinet somewhere in the kitchen behind a stack of pots and pans. Caleb felt nude, only having on his brown backpack.

James' heard his name being echoed for about a fifth time and he finally decided to respond. After a couple of seconds, Al cautiously approached the house through the broken fence. Shining his flashlight around, he initially spotted James and noticed Caleb, in his all-black attire, sometime afterward,

"Who's that?" Al asked loudly as if to surprise James that someone was standing beside him.

"Oh! Al," James reluctantly started off, "This is...C-Cain. He use to attend military school with us."

"I don't remember him," Al said, keeping his flashlight pinned on Caleb.

"Well, I do. I don't remember all of your friends. Can you remember every single person from school?" James pressed on like an interrogator.

Al switched off his flashlight and clipped it right back onto his utility belt and came to an understanding,

"Hi Cain."

"H-hi…" Caleb replied.

"Are you a soldier?"

"Nnnnoo...?" Caleb responded slowly as if it was a question. He cautiously looked at James as if they were attempting to communicate telepathically, "I-I, uh, I flunked. It's really embarrassing to...having to tell people that. They say I wasn't cut out for it or whatever."

All Al could do was nod, possibly to save Caleb the embarrassment or because he didn't how to respond. It was already strange enough that he found James in a restricted part of the zone with a guy he'd never met before. James stood from the side and watched the two of them exchange words and give a short moment of unfitting stares after some silence occurred. A choir of crickets chirped the entire night. When James noticed that Caleb was the first to look away, he interjected by stating that they should get to town and catch up on some sleep. Caleb, who was unfamiliar with the zone and the lifestyle of these people, wondered how he was going to blend in for the time being. But he knew one thing: He wasn't staying here and he wasn't leaving without James.


	17. Chapter 16 - Harrisburg (II)

It had already been four days in the Harrisburg quarantine zone. On his second day, James was given a new ID without any questions. The one in charge of the paperwork was Al, surprisingly. However, whatever paperwork he received stayed between him and the General. James feared what would show up on the status and reports of his paper, but it turned out that he was just presumed dead. "Do you have to tell them I'm alive?" James asked. Like music to his ears, Al shook his head and gave a simple "No."

Overtime, James and Caleb had been keeping up their act like a pair of prestigious street performers of their time and kept everyone mildly entertained by their peculiar relationship. They would be around each other as often as they argued, and usually disappeared for minutes to hours from the zone. This particular faction, out of the entire zone, wasn't that big, so people silently wondered where these new faces came from, especially Caleb since he had no one other than James to vouch for him. People eventually got use to it and no longer questioned it. But of course, James was growing extremely comfortable and was aware of the way Caleb was living: in the restricted parts of the zone, where he was prone to being affected by loose spores or wild Infected. As Caleb started taking note of this, he began to show up less than the two initially planned.

For starters, Caleb got an ambiguous vibe from Al. He hated seeing his close-together eyes always studying him as if he were trying to make some analysis for a military profile. He would always refer to Al as "that hobo-looking guy". Al just rubbed him the wrong way and he had no idea why. James knew of this because there was nothing the two didn't discuss the past four days, but James kept it to himself how Al really felt about the Fireflies. Therefore he didn't warn him not to give the slightest idea that he might be Firefly affiliated, because if he did, Al wouldn't waste a minute to kill him.

For someone on sick-leave because of his leg, James' days mostly consisted of nothing. He rested on Al's living room sofa alone and bored. With a lot less to do, he stared at the ceiling fan that hadn't worked in years. He found a fresh pack of cigarettes hidden under a flower pot somewhere and stole it for himself. Unable to light it, he kept the unlit cigarette comfortably in his mouth. He felt like a western sheriff from a dystopian film. James believed that when Caleb kept his distance and stopped talking to him, it was a cry for attention, and although he tried his hardest to ignore it, he just couldn't. It would grind his gears to figure out what was bothering him.

James sat up and reached down to place on his boots. He double knotted his shoelaces, another technique he learned from Caleb, so they wouldn't loosen from tedious hikes. Al was usually on duty around this time, so James made a promise to himself to come back in time for Al's self-given break so they could sit and talk about the difficulties of life. After exiting Al's apartment and locking up behind him, he reached outside and stood from the top of the porch, looking around for a particular face. That's when Sylvia, the only strawberry blonde in a group of brunettes, spotted him. She broke apart and walked towards him, waving as she walked closer. James weakly waved back, having his eyes return to search the district. She held the railing and looked up at him,

"Hey, James," she smiled from the bottom of the step.

"Hey," he responded without looking at her.

Slowly, he began to walk down the three steps and continue walking past her. She began to follow him, trying to keep up with his slow, yet reaching step,

"So I see you and that Caleb-guy are friends again?"

"Um, yeah," after a couple of seconds, James stopped and shook his head like a dazed animal. He cut her off from talking and looked over at her, "And his name's Cain. Not Caleb."

"Are you sure?" She asked, getting a nod from James, "But I heard you calling him Caleb that night he jumped out and punched you in the nose. I swear," she put her hands under chin, "I remember you called him Caleb."

"I said Cain," he said continuing to walk, somewhat annoyed that she had to be the witness of his unpleasant beat down.

"I've never seen him around here before. Where's he from?" She continued questioning like a frivolous child.

"He's from a different sector in Harrisburg, he just attended military school with us like every other teen in the district has to," he lied. He resumed cutting her off again, "I know. I know. You don't remember him, but _I_ do," cutting her off a final time, he looked over his shoulder while he continued walking, "Can we talk another time? Now's not really a good time. Have you seen him by the way?"

Cautious that he would cut her off again, instead of speaking, Sylvia simply shook her head no and stopped following him through lack of interest and partial offense.

"Okay thanks," he said, transitioning into a steady jog.

She placed her hands on her hips, and watched him vanish, possibly wondering where the initial spark between them went.

* * *

James returned back to the backstreet where he and Caleb had their fight (speaking of which, James' swollen lump had completely disappeared within just a couple of hours). He walked by the busted fence, which was left wide open. After Caleb had broken it the first night, he still managed to fight it shut although it was lopsided and somewhat difficult to reopen. But the difficulty to open it made him feel much more secure in case any strangers (or soldiers) wanted to show up. Walking past the opening of the backyard fence, James looked directly across to the back entrance of house—that too was left wide open, welcoming anyone who came about, which left James in a frenzy of confusion. Only armed with his pistol, James cautiously crept towards the entrance with his hand resting on his handgun,

Sticking his head inside, he looked from side to side, seeing nothing out of the ordinary other than the untidy state that it was left in from the start of the CBI breakout. He put one foot in and listened closely for any noises that indicated trouble,

"Caleb?" He called out louder. After getting no answer, he shouted louder, "Caleb...it's James."

There was still no response and it was beginning to worry him. It was a day ago since Caleb stopped showing up. For all James knew, something terrible could have happened to him. The amount of possibilities that ran through his head only made him worrisome. He ran into the kitchen, opening the cabinet that Caleb kept his katana hidden in for the past couple days—no surprise that it was missing. James immediately felt stressed like a grief struck person experiencing the death of an individual they cared for. Slowly and harshly, he ran his digits through his scalp. He shuffled through the pots and pans hoping to find the katana buried somewhere hard to see, but there was no luck. It was gone. He knew Caleb went no where without his katana, so where the hell could he have gone to? He tried his hardest to block it out, but there could only be one answer: Caleb left without a word. Could it be a nothing serious? Maybe. Was it like Caleb to leave behind someone who he thought cared less about him? _Absolutely_.

Suddenly, hearing the faintest sound of a snapping branch and getting that unexplained feeling of when a presence entered your area, he turned to the back doorway that served to him as an entrance. It was Caleb standing at the doorway, nearly wild-eyed. James was still crouched to the ground, the cabinets wide opened in front of him. Caleb took it as a red handed robbery. James opened his mouth to speak,

"There you a-"

"James, where my sword?" Caleb asked tiresomely as if he were the mature one sick of a prankster.

"What? What do you mean? What on earth are you talking about?" James asked, making it to his feet. He briefly looked back at the cabinets, guiding Calebs eyes to it as well, "I was just looking in there to see if your sword was still in there. I thought you left," he received a questionable glare from Caleb, "Honestly, what would I want with your sword? I just came here looking for you."

"So, you didn't take it?" Caleb asked. James shook his head no and genuinely looked as lost as he was, "Then where the hell-"

Caleb stormed off and searched everywhere he could, not realizing or caring that he already searched those places earlier. _Don't just stand there, James. Help me look!_ James could hear from the back of his cranium. Not even giving a millisecond to pass, Caleb reappeared, leaning into the house. Both hands acted like cables and held each side of the door.

"Are you gonna stand there all day!? Hel–"

"Shut up, I'm coming," James said, cutting him off. James followed him to the outside yard and looked around as Caleb frantically searched and eventually gave up, "How'd you lose it?"

"I didn't lose it! It was stolen from me," Caleb corrected, "And if _you_ didn't' take it, then anyone could have it right about now. It was probably your little girlfriend."

"Sylvia?"

"I don't know, Is that the one you kissed?" He asked, screwing up his face.

"Yeah, Sylvia. And I didn't kiss her…fix your face."

"Whatever…" Caleb said, going through the same spots again. He prayed to whatever was out there that he had misplaced it. But who misplaces as a katana? A big ass idiot, that's who–and Caleb thought there was no way in hell he could've fallen into that category, no matter how hard he tried.

"Just try to calm the hell down. What would she want with your sword?"

"You're right," Caleb submitted, sitting in the non vibrant, browning grass. He sat momentarily, well aware that James was watching him in some astonishment that Caleb admitted defeat, "I just really need that sword back. It means a lot to me, James. You have no idea."

"I do. I've just been meaning to ask you," James stared off into the grey skies, "What _is_ the deal with you and that sword?"

"It belonged to someone I knew, and it was passed down to me," he unconsciously played with and twisted his curls around his fingers as he sat.

"Like some apocalyptic ninja? Were you an apocalyptic ninja, Caleb? Because if you were, it explains everything."

Far from flattered, Caleb threw himself back while his legs were folded and began to laugh, weakly catching himself each time he became unbalanced.

"Shh," James hushed, lowly waving his hands at Caleb's level like a warning sign, "Someone's gonna know we're out here."

Caleb's laugh slowly transitioned into a soft giggle. Getting up to his feet, he slowly shook his head and rubbed his stomach from aching pain. It was both from hunger and the screeching laughter. It was probably the funniest thing Caleb ever heard from anyone the entire year. James watched him insightfully as Caleb made it to his feet and dusted himself off.

"Why do you wear so much black?" James asked.

"Why do you always want to wear a military uniform?" Caleb snapped right back.

"Because I have to."

"No, you don't."

Touché. Caleb always had a way of making some deeply hidden point that only James (or the person he was talking to) could understand. It would miraculously register itself into his head and stay there no matter how hard one tried to let it slip through the other ear. He took from it that he didn't have to be a part of the military. No one was forcing him–it was his choice. It was somewhat of a perplexing, cryptic, philosophical answer that someone couldn't respond to. Admittedly, James would've always dismissed these kind of remarks, but they always embedded themselves in the deepest part of his memories, unable to be removed, and when the right time came, James acted on it. They were beginning to become meaningful and profound.

Although his katana remained in the back of his mind at all times, Caleb decided to lessen James' previous worry by visiting and walking back to civilization with him. James casually spoke while they walked, but Caleb's eyes wandered around endlessly in search for his weapon. He peered through stranger's windows, looked at the edges of ceilings from down below, and looked at trashcans, dearly holding himself back from diving into one. Turning out from a thin corner and into the open road, there was a long line forming toward a tent that sheltered a number of crates and boxes. From what Caleb could recognize, it was a line for rations. Caleb reached into his pocket and pulled out a ration card that he could use to purchase food. Since he was no longer identifying as a military soldier, he didn't have special benefits like James.

"How'd you get ration cards?" James asked taking the card and making sure it wasn't counterfeit.

"I did some work for some people," Caleb snatched it back, "Yesterday,"

"What kind of work?"

"Doesn't matter."

Caleb walked into the line just before some else could. They exchanged dirty looks at first, but James stood beside him and flashed his military badge, sending a message to back off. Overtime, other people lined up behind them, making the line extend halfway into the road. It was delayed a couple of times, especially when they found out one of the civilians had been using a fake card. Finally, it was Caleb's turn and he got his food in no time. It consisted of cooked corn, a formulated milkshake, and a cheese sandwich. James, while he was at it, grabbed himself a tuna sandwich with a bright red apple. The crinkling of their paper bags sounded in sync with every step they took. James recommended they sit in a small bar that use to serve as a diner. It was pretty dead on the weekends, but it was the best place to eat and think if you really needed to. After agreeing, Caleb felt the need to say something or else he might never get the chance,

"I'm leaving…" he confessed lowly.

"What?" James asked, mishearing him.

"I said I'm leaving."

James stopped and turned around. He was growing exhausted with Caleb's constant tugging. He cautiously looked side to side, making sure that what they were about to discuss wouldn't be within earshot of anyone else,

"Look," James said, putting up a hand in defense and speaking even lower, "I know we spoke about that poster, but I don't think anyone is going to find out."

"How do you know that…?" Caleb asked, fiddling his hands anxiously.

"I-I just do. I mean, we're still alive aren't we?"

"So what? You're just gonna wait for death to come to the doorstep? What happens if someone else _does_ find out?" He followed James as the soldier resumed walking to the former diner, "James, listen to me. I've never been this on-edge in my life. I can't sleep at night, I'm always looking over my shoulder. I just don't feel safe around people who want me dead. Want _us_ dead. Y-you're the only reason I haven't left yet. James, I don't want you to die and I think it's best we leave this place. Together. We can make it out there, as long as we've got each other's backs."

James stopped walking and turned around,

"Okay," he sighed, "So what if you're right? What if someone knows about us, _then_ what?"

Caleb shrugged,

"Well…" Caleb looked down, "T-There's a Firefly zone in-"

"You're delusional."

"James," Caleb clasped his hands together, almost like a plead "You don't really feel safe here do you?"

Without giving an answer, James turned around and continued walking, leaving Caleb to stand alone in the present drizzle of rain. The bell above the door of the bar could be heard, and it came to an abrupt stop as the door swung back closed. Caleb frowned and looked into the sky as raindrops fell to his face. Feeling his soul sink into his shoes, he eventually walked towards the bar without the need to say anything else.

* * *

James sat right across from Caleb at their red colored booth. The pair hadn't exchanged a word since, regardless of finishing their meals an hour ago. James rested backwards, pressing his back against the window and having an outdated newspaper rest on his chin and cover his torso like a blanket. Caleb sat quietly, trying to avoid attention from others. He carefully looked at every face (which was about seven) in the bar before things became suspicious or hostile. Supporting his head with both of his palms rested on each cheek, he looked at James sleep like a supervised pacifist rather than a soldier. Caleb could read it on his face, but James hadn't been sleeping either. He could tell James felt the same way he did and just didn't want to admit it. He was so goddamn stubborn at times that it enraged Caleb, but what could he do? Violence didn't always have to be the answer. If anything, he was getting sick of the arguments. It brought out the worst in both them and it always ended up hurting someone's feelings. At first it brought them closer, but now it got to the point where it could bring them apart, especially in a dire situation like this. It was strange, but Caleb liked the feeling he got being around James—he had less apathy. He was shaped by the ugliness of the world at a very young age when it took the last part of his family. It made him into something he hoped to never become. Although he tried so hard to stand against what the military would do to people, Caleb had the gall to do everything they could or couldn't. He was reaching the point where he could kill almost anyone without a sense of deep regret or guilt, but when he met James those feelings changed. Things began to matter. Personally, the Fireflies weren't the best at conveying that type of message, but he needed to stand for something. He needed a place to belong or else he would've taken his own life a long time ago. He wanted to feel...wanted. After traveling with James, he felt like all they could really depend on was each other. _Stockholm syndrome?_ Caleb asked himself. He was on the verge of shouting. There's no way it could be. He wasn't taken hostage...he went willingly in order for freedom and got caught in the middle of some weird friendship that emerged from it all. To say the least, there was no doubt James felt the same way. Stockholm wasn't like that.

Like a blow from his own fist, Caleb was knocked out of his daydream as a random pound came from the window beside their table. Giving a loud gasp, he looked over to see Al pounding on the glass with the side of his fists. It was mostly to get James' attention since Caleb never exchanged words with Al after their first encounter. James slowly woke up, feeling random thuds on his back and put down the newspaper. Turning to see Al, he gave a short chuckle and signaled for Al to come in and join them. Al went out of sight and walked around to the entrance,

"Why are you inviting him?" Caleb whispered.

James ignored Caleb, and his eyes followed Al's every step as he entered the bar and walked towards their table.

"Hey, I was just getting ready to go to my apartment. The hell are you doing over here?"

"Just grabbed rations…" James said as he stretched his arms upward and yawned, "Came in here to eat in some peace and quiet."

Al nodded almost twice for every word that came out of James' mouth. Suddenly he looked over at Caleb, who still hadn't acknowledged his presence as any sign of good,

"Hi Cain," Al said loud and clear so there'd be no doubts that it was heard.

Caleb glanced up and spoke, a raspy breath escaped his mouth,

"Hi."

James noted Caleb's reaction and thought it would be best to prove his paranoid companion wrong about Al, a trusted friend from a very young age. Therefore, he would scoot out of his seat and leave the two to talk alone. After doing just that, Al scooted into the booth and sat across from Caleb, nearest to the window. He left an open spot beside him for when James returned. Caleb brought his palms together and warmed them between his thighs. Giving a sharp exhale, he looked to the side avoiding eye contact or even a single glance. Despite walking in without speaking to anyone else in the location, the overseer of the bar appeared with a hot mug of tea on a saucer and rested it in front of Al. Al gestured a soft smile and the person walked off. He held the mug handle with two sturdy fingers and apprehensively brought it to his lips after blowing softly into it. He took a sip and placed it back on the saucer.

"So, Cain…" Al said after swallowing, causing Caleb to look at him from the corner of his eye, "What brings you here?"

"What do you mean?" Caleb asked, finally giving Al his undivided attention.

"James told me you were from another sector of the quarantine zone. I've never seen you around before...not once."

"I already told you that I flunked," Caleb said, growing annoyed, "Besides, I heard James was back in the city so I just wanted to say hi."

"How long have you two known each other?"

"Not long...we only spoke a couple of times in military school."

" _Really?_ " Al asked teasingly. He sat back and rested his folded hands on his stomach, "James told me you knew each other his first two years before you left. And you two are awfully close for people who only spoke a couple of times. No offense, but I just find it pretty weird that I never heard of you."

Caleb bit his bottom lip and rubbed an eye out to conceal a small nervous jitter. He was definitely beginning to feel a discomfort. It was the same feeling he got when he was being interrogated by Wells back in Boston. Of course, he was more numb then, but there was a recognizable feeling he just couldn't shake. He turned to look over his shoulder, having the vinyl seat squeak as he did, to make sure no one else was listening. The others were either drunk, asleep, or too depressed to even listen. He glanced at the window nearest the front of the bar and noticed James nonchalantly smoking a cigarette underneath a partially torn awning. He turned back to Al,

"Yeah, two years isn't really that long to me…" he improvised.

" _Really?"_ Al asked again. He took one of the three sugar packets that rested on the side of the saucer and teared one open, pouring it into his tea, "Who were your teachers?"

Caleb fixed his posture and sat more upright, bracing himself for the flipping of a table or the throwing of some hot tea in his eyes.

"Don't remember," he gulped.

" _Really?"_ he said a third. He opened up the second packet of sugar and poured it into his mug, "Well, that's strange. You should at least remember one teacher?" Caleb didn't give an answer, trying to give an intimidating stare, "That's too bad. Have you ever been outside the zone? Do you know how to even use a gun? Everyone has to know how to use a gun, regardless if they finish military school or not—y'know, to protect themselves. There's all sorts of crazies out there; Infected, hunters…" he reached to the side of the table and took a plastic spoon that was packaged, "Fireflies…"

 _Or military_ , Caleb wanted to say.

"Yeah..." Caleb agreed unspecifically.

"Guns are definitely more certified than swords. Aren't they... _Cain_?" Caleb didn't reply. He thought showing a reaction would've said something, but it dawned on him that silence may have actually said more, "I never told James this but," Al stirred his cup of tea, "I got my hands on a Firefly once. Real young kid. Dumb just like I was when I was his age. I just made it seemed like I cared and wanted to help his 'cause'. He told me all the horrible things he'd done and I thought I'd bring him to justice on my own. Then when he wasn't looking, I knocked his ass out, tied him to a chair and brought him to a cellar far, far away from here. Then, I took a metal spoon just like this," he took the plastic spoon out of his tea, "And dug it right into the sockets of his brown eyes. Man, his screams were _so_ loud. Then, I took some pliers and ripped his tongue right out of his mouth," he oddly digressed for a moment, "It was a lot harder than it looked, I mean, could you imagine? Anyway. He kept begging I kill him, so I did. I strapped him to the electric chair and fried him until he defecated himself," he ripped open the third packet of sugar and poured it into his tea, taking a long sip until it warmed him right up, "I wanted to do plenty more, but I said I'd save it for another day."

Caleb never had fear come over him like this. He had his head down and looked directly into his lap. He attempted his hardest to have his hands stop trembling, but it was of no use. He couldn't bare to look into Al's eyes because it was like speaking to the devil himself. What did he get himself into?

"I thought you looked familiar...and once I found that sword, it confirmed _everything_. Make this easy for yourself and don't say a goddamn thing to James, because you're dead either way when I get my hands on you. This is James' family, and if given the chance, he'd choose us over you any day and you know it."

Unfazed by the jingling of the bar entrance, Caleb remained cooped up like a snapping turtle as James had reentered. His heavy footsteps were heard inching towards them. Al quickly changed his attitude and posture with the most troubling ease and scooted out of his seat. Caleb hastily pulled over his hood.

"You're leaving?" James asked, "Come on man, all I did was smoke a cigarette."

"Yeah, well, you smell like shit and I've gotta get back to my post. Cain and I had a good talk," Al said, giving Caleb a small wink just before his eyes were completely looking down.

"Alright, catch you later."

Giving James a friendly handshake, Al exited the bar, having the bells jingle as a sign of his exit. James sat back down in the booth and looked at Caleb a moment later. He examined his posture and found it strange that his hands were in his lap and his head hung low. Even if they were in the midst of their complications with one another, it could wait,

"Caleb," James called, "Caleb, look."

As he reached forward to yank Caleb's hood off, Caleb brought his hand up at the right moment after hearing the movements of James' body. Caleb scooted out of the booth and walked out with his hands buried into his pockets. He slowly walked to the exit and opened the door by resting his shoulder unto it. James watched him disappear. What the hell did they talk about? James asked himself. After getting to know Al these past couple of days, he knew Caleb wasn't the one to blame for a change.


	18. Chapter 17 - Harrisburg (III)

James was in Boston, walking around the zone in his neatly ironed uniform. The zone was empty, not having one person in sight. Oddly, things felt very different. With the absence of other civilians and the exaggeration of the walls and fences that were used to keep him inside made him feel like a caged animal. He didn't want to be the only one in there. Just as he was privately plotting his escape, he heard loud snarls and screams of Infected. However, they were coming from inside the zone. As if the simple turn of his head were like a light switch for the sun in the skies, James turned and the entire scenery went dark. He could see the shadows of Infected on the walls, through windows, running around candle lit rooms and making their way down to his level. He immediately turned back to face the fence, where it was daytime once again. He ran to the fences, attempting to fight it open once he reached them, but it was almost impossible. There was no opening. It was like they were sealed tight. Like gates normally would, these gates wouldn't even move—not a rattle. There was nothing that allowed him to escape. He looked up to see if he could climb it, but the walls reached the heavens and even the hells. He could feel his heart pounding as the snarls came closer to the point where it sounded like it was in his ear. Not even daring to turn around, he felt a vicious grab on his shoulder and prepared himself to be bitten through,

"Hi James," he heard a soft voice, having a goddess-like echo.

James turned to the familiar voice and realized it was Lauren with a devilish looking grin on her face. Her head was tilted downward and she glared up at him. Her hair floated and danced like it were jellyfish submerged in seawater.

"Lauren. I can't leave, how do we leave?"

"Take my hand…"

She stretched out her arm and as James grabbed it. He felt something strange appear in between their palms. Looking down, he noticed a revolver; the same one he had given to Caleb as a goodbye gift. Since her hand wasn't too far from her waist level, James began to notice the change in her uniform. On the left side if her waist, a disproportionate piece of her hip and uniform was missing; almost as if it were torn off by a wild lion. Her uniform was torn through, and blood was seeping out and her bones were exposed. Looking back up at her face, James noticed her slowly transform into something he recognized. Her eyes slowly tingled, one becoming crooked, and they began to glow red with the changing of the day into night. She grunted in pain and shook uncontrollably as she refused to release his hand. Green and blue veins rose from underneath her skin and dry mold began to sprout just above her eyes and around her neck.

"Lauren! LAUREN, STOP!" James shouted, his own voice fading.

"K-ki-kill m-kil-ki-kill m-...ki-ki-"

As her lips separated, strings of saliva hung from each other. Originally thinking she was going to speak, Lauren reacted by shouting back at him with loud inhuman screams. Her mouth foamed like a rabid wild dog and she dove at James with a large chomp. But the lunging of her mouth was like entering a cave—her head became abnormally enlarged and was wide enough to swallow James' entire body. In the process, her presence completely faded, vanishing like a cloud of smoke.

James was now in a dark area, completely restricted from moving too freely. There was pitch darkness, and there was no signs of a wall or floor, but whenever he moved, he felt them. He was the only one illuminated in the darkness. Right in front of him, Caleb appeared out of the darkness like a growing flame. He, too, was illuminated by an unseen spotlight, but was resting on his knees with his head down, facing a completely different direction.

"James," Caleb's voice echoed in a disoriented manner. This time his voice sounded much more expressive than it had ever sounded. It sounded full of pain, like a recent cry, "James!" he sobbed, "Forgive me, please! Why won't you forgive me?!"

" _I-I do forgive you,_ " James said without moving his lips.

But as James continued to watch Caleb, James saw someone who looked just like him randomly appear...except it wasn't him. It was like looking at a doppelganger; the clone had something about him that made him seem powerful but lack a human quality. He was like a robot. He didn't speak, blink, or look like he even breathed. Like an old computer glitch, what James saw began to switch back and forth between two separate visions. Every split second, Caleb switched from being on his knees to standing erect. And each time the image of Caleb standing up appeared, he seemed to be moving his head towards James' direction. James could feel the vivid and psychological chill in this otherworldly place. Just as the standing Caleb ultimately looked at James' directly, he whispered,

"Don't do it…"

Instantly switching back to the image of him on his knees, there was a brown sack over his head like a medieval execution. The doppelganger pulled out the very same revolver and shot Caleb in the head in the blink of an eye. Despite closing his eyes, the real James could hear the carnage—bones shifting, blood splattering, and the thump of a body. Once he immediately reopened his eyes, James looked forward to see the doppelganger missing and Caleb's lifeless body in a puddle of blood that resembled a tiny ocean of red rippling water. James ran to the body, climbing into the puddle as if it were a real ocean. As Caleb laid afloat like it were solid ground, the blood reached just below James' knee. He knelt and removed the bag from Caleb's lifeless corpse. Turning Caleb's face to get a full look into his eyes, he spotted a pair of two lifeless eyes staring right back at him. His eyes were dry like his death had been longer than recent. James trembled and breathed heavily, not understanding why he had to witness of what he was seeing. James then felt a gun rest on the back of his head and felt the cocking of a pistol,

"Turn around," he heard a deep, yet distant voice say.

James turned and saw Wells rest the tip of the the gun between his eyes. And although he tightly sealed them together, he could see through his eyelids as if they were transparent layers. Wells pulled the trigger and James suddenly jumped to what would be instant death.

James' head sprang up so quickly, he nearly gave himself whiplash. He massaged the back of his neck free of some minimal stress and sat right back trying to take a moment to decipher what he just experienced. He sat in a white tank top and some sweatpants, recently given to him as a hand me down. But his new top was moistened by excessive sweating. He waited all day for Al to arrive so he could discuss something with him that involved Caleb's behavior at the bar earlier that day. It was nearing curfew and Al's shift would be over in just a couple of minutes. James kept himself awake in the meantime, wanting to avoid another nightmare as terrible as the one he just envisioned like some fucked up foreshadow or prophecy. As a series of quick blinks turned into slow ones, he was alerted by the jingling of some keys from the other side of the door—in came Al with a paper bag in one hand and a bologna sandwich in the other,

"You still awake dude?" Al casually asked his roommate.

He quickly kicked off the boots that already had their laces unfastened. He left them scattered at the entrance.

"Yeah, um," James was still trying to recover from his unwelcomed dream, "I um, I gotta ask you something."

Al walked towards his bedroom that wasn't too far from the living room area where James sat. He left his door open so he could still communicate,

"Make it fast man, I'm really tired."

"Did you tell Caleb anything today at the bar? He was acting really funny."

Al walked out of the bedroom, partially nude from changing out of his uniform. He stuck his torso out from behind the door and looked out at James, revealing a hard-to-see farmer's tan and a blond happy trail,

"Doesn't he always act funny?" Al asked, "He's probably just being an argumentative shit like you say he always is…" Al said, reaching for a blue shirt behind him and putting it on.

James thought about the proper response,

"Yeah, but this time it was really weird. Like, really different. I've never seen him act that way,"

"What he tell you…?" Al asked, preemptively grabbing a gun while he partially hid behind the door. Both of his palms were sweaty.

"He didn't tell me anything."

"It's probably nothing then…" Al tried convincing..

"Yeah...you're probably right," James nodded, getting back comfortable on the sofa.

Al didn't reply. Instead, he gently placed his gun back before it could slip out of his palms and hit the floor. He rested it on top of the hamper with his utility belt and uniform. He let James sulk over what he thought was nonsense. And even though he told Caleb that James would choose Harrisburg over him—Al was actually doubtful on that topic. He couldn't put his finger on it, but James had changed in some questionable ways...ways towards him. Seeing him build a closer bond with a Firefly and eventually lying about it made Al want to do unthinkable things. He had an extremist hate towards Fireflies and his envious views on their relationship just made things a lot worse.

* * *

It was during the middle of the night, and James just couldn't seem to get his mind in the right place. With the cryptic dream bothering him all night, it seemed like it wanted to return for a sequel each time he closed his eyes. Glimpses of blood, glimpses of Lauren, glimpses of Infected, glimpses of everything he shunned so persistently over the months. It was the first time he was ever confronted with these thoughts. Once you were on the outside, fighting to survive, nothing else mattered. You lied to yourself and moved on...but once you got comfortable, your past was determined to catch up with you. Flashbacks. Dreams. You name it. James took it upon himself to go look for Caleb. He grabbed a sweatshirt and bundled up before going outside. Like he rarely did, he followed his gut and went searching for Caleb. He let himself out, trying not to wake Al up from his sleep.

James sneaked out of the apartment and made it past the skeleton staff that were patrolling the outsides. Privileged to do whatever the hell he pleased, even if it meant endangering himself, all James did was lie by saying he wanted to smoke a simple cigarette. When asked why he wouldn't do it inside, he lied by saying he didn't want to disturb anyone. Falling for it, they let him go. He had about six more cigarettes left in his box and no matches. He calmly crossed over into the unauthorized parts of the zone again. Crossing through the thin back streets behind the houses, he reached down and picked up a rock. Carrying it like a docile pet, he threw the rock at the window of the room he knew Caleb slept in. After a couple more tosses, James eventually saw the silhouette cautiously peer in from the bottom of the window sill. After a couple of minutes, Caleb came down fully clothed. His face looked miserable and he lacked character in his demeanor as he walked,

"Goodnight, James…" Caleb said, drowsily leaning on the fence as he walked out.

"Sorry," James forced a chuckle, flicking the unlit cigarette, between his index and middle finger, back and forth.

"Told you, you'd get addicted to those things…" Caleb said.

James stared at Caleb and nervously touched his ear while he looked down at the cigarette, almost like he was completely unaware that he had it. It was becoming apart of his daily routine without him even noticing, like a sly demon trying to bargain his soul for itself. It wasn't an 'I-told-you-so' moment, but more of a genuine disappointment. Instead of asking Caleb for a match, James dropped the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it mercilessly until the tobacco shaves burst out. Removing the box from his pocket, he turned and energetically hurled it over a fence. The cigarettes fell in every which way as the box twirled in the air. Facing Caleb again, James shrugged with his palms out to the side and smiled,

"How was that?"

Caleb gave a lifeless smirk and looked another way.

"Hey," James asked, finally regaining Caleb's attention, "What happened at that bar today?"

"...nothing," Caleb groaned for the millionth time.

He crossed his arms and kicked off the fence to head back inside the house. James quickly followed after his brisk walk and tightly grabbed his wrist from behind,

"Stop _lying_..." James said lazily, heightening the tone of his voice towards the end.

"I'm not! Now…" he struggled to fight free, "Let go!" finally, James let go and Caleb stumbled backwards and fell on his hindquarters. He quickly stood up and dusted himself off of any dirt, "J-just forget it..."

"Forget what?"

"Forget everything. Forget the reason I came back here, forget everything I said about wanting to get us out of here."

James held his head in frustration. He dug his fingers deep into the roots of his hair. Again with the constant tugging. There was so many mixed messages and signals, James just didn't know what path to take. Granted, he couldn't blame Caleb because Caleb's mind was in just as much of a frenzy as his was,

"Talk. To. Me. Caleb! Stop with all the dramatic, coded bullshit."

"Just promise me that whatever happens tomorrow, you'll stay out of it…" Caleb demanded.

"Tomorr–" he rested his fingers on his forehead from the result of a headache, "what are you talk–"

"Promise!" Caleb said, pointing his forefinger.

"I can't. I can't make any promises, Caleb. I don't even know what the fuck is going on!"

"Look," Caleb shook his head while it faced the ground. He looked back up, "You have a home here and...people are glad to have you back. I know I fucked things up, but I promise to make things better. Somehow—it'll be like we never even met."

James didn't want it to be like they'd never met. The two stood in silence for a couple of seconds before Caleb turned away and headed back into the house. James didn't reply. He couldn't. He felt like there was more missing from that sentence and that there was no way in hell it could've been anything good. Leaving it on that note, James turned away and returned to Al's apartment, more confused than he was when he left.

* * *

On any other day, Al was responsible for guarding the tunnel entrance into the entire zone. Al thought it was like watching paint dry; other soldiers shared this thought. The one thing James appreciated about Harrisburg was that it wasn't anything like Boston—Boston was untamed and volatile. However, others agreed that Harrisburg was too boring and idle, and everyone knew that idle hands were the devil's plaything—Al could tell you that himself after all he's been through. Other soldiers considered James' skilled since he was relocated to Boston, because the public came to the idea that being sent out to tougher zones meant you were worth something to the military. They believed failures got left behind and were given the easiest tasks. Whenever James heard comments like that, he would be reminded of how much of a coward he was when he stepped foot in Boston. Even to this day, he was no competition to any soldier out there or here.

The best thing about today was that Al had to patrol inside of the zone for a change. Al planned to disobey his general's orders and just sleep the day away since he believed he could get away with it, but James insisted he show him around since it sounded like such an easy job. Coming to an agreement, Al traveled with James throughout various sectors of the zone, crossing through checkpoint after checkpoint. He was disappointed to admit it, but James actually forgot some things about his beloved home. They were both fully dressed in their uniforms, the only thing Al lacked was a helmet, only because he didn't ever think to wear one in a zone where there were practically no threats. As they quietly strolled through the separate areas, Al received a message on his walkie talkie,

"This is soldier Sylvia. Any soldiers by sector 40.5? I need support. Over," the recognizable voice of Sylvia said through the radio.

"This is soldier Al. Break." he paused, "Soilder James and I are by sector 35. Over."

"There is an escaped smuggler through sector 40.5. Break."

A 'break' was a pause, and it It was protocol to wait for about two seconds in case any other emergency came through the radio transmissions, but Al found it pointless because there was never a moment where they were two excitements at once. In the midst of that pause, James was terrified that the report would have something to do with Caleb. He was in a strange mix of curiosity and sudden disinterest. Once the third second passed without any other response, the messenger continued,

"Smuggler is being charged for fraud and forgery. Break," there was another pause again, and the tapping of Al's foot showed that he was growing impatient, "Suspect is a male with a red beard. How copy? Over."

"Ha-ha," Al literally pronounced, looking over a James "Finally, some fun. You answer,"

James lifted his arm and reached up to answer his shoulder radio,

"This is soldier James. Roger that. Over."

After that final transmission, Al was officially on the go like he was hit by a random adrenaline rush. He beamed through the quarantine zone so quick he could probably break the sound barrier. He frightened nearby civilians as they quickly rushed out of the way to evade being tackled. Although James was healthy and fit enough to run while having a recovering leg, he realized that he lacked some speed as a result of getting shot. As Al reached another checkpoint with a white sign that read 'SECTOR 40.5' in red letters, he held up a beat up, brown wallet that held his badge and ID card. To avoid hindering their chase, they were granted immediate access into the sector.

In James' earlier childhood, he never stepped foot in sector 40.5 because he heard it was a place for delinquents and smugglers. Technically speaking, the sectors weren't in the best state, but sector 40.5 was the slums of all slums. The people there lived ruthlessly and their area was in the worst state. From what James could recall, it was rarely cared for and people went missing in groups. If people of that sector never returned, the military never sent a search party out to look for them.

Al skidded to a stop, in what looked like a puddle of piss, and searched around just as James caught up behind him, huffing and puffing. Sylvia shouted from a distance, waving them over to where she was. She was fully armed with an assault rifle and began running ahead both of the men. Al chased off after her, in which James followed in last place. Sylvia dashed through a small alleyway, her ponytail breezing after her like a strawberry blonde ribbon,

"He ran through here!" her voice echoed mildly through the surrounding buildings.

The alleyway was eerily steamy from nearby factories and sewer systems, and it grew thicker the deeper they all ran into it. James slowed down to a stop after eventually losing track of Al and Sylvia. He was on his own, so he immediately pulled out his pistol as a precaution. In the distance, James could hear faint sounds of wrestling and the sound of soft blows. Sylvia's heavy grunting was being heard and then Al could be heard double-teaming. Suddenly, the sounds stopped and Sylvia gave a loud shout, like she had just been given a heavy blow and thrown into a pile of trashcans,

"James!" Al shouted though James' shoulder radio, "He's coming your way, get him!"

James, looked up, darting his eyes in every direction. He stood in silence quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Soon after, he heard quick footsteps. They became clearer, telling that they were coming closer to his position. Using his sense of hearing, James turned in the direction he best believed the criminal was coming in from and saw a shadowed figure sprinting toward him. Out of the thickness appeared a bearded individual who was foolishly looking back at all times. James went into fighter mode and braced himself for a confrontation. Currently, what James lacked in speed, he made up for in power. He charged forward, extending out a sturdy arm, parallel to the ground and to the side. Bringing the arm to an angle, the criminal's neck came in contact with James' arm—abruptly stopping all the speed in the criminal's top torso. It caused his feet to swiftly lift from the ground like defying a gravitational force. Once the bearded criminal slammed to the ground, he let out a loud grunt. Although he may had been a little too proud in his own accomplishment, James could've sworn he felt the entire zone shake. The criminal shouted at the sight of James in his uniform like a whining baby and began to babble words uncontrollably, even drooling at points. James reached down and roughly grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forcibly lifted the bearded man to his feet. Looking over, James could see Sylvia and Al walking towards him. They were both drained from their sudden requirement of energy,

"Nice job, James…" Al complimented while catching his breath and resting his palm on James's shoulder.

Too caught up on his high horse, James began to walk away, literally holding the bearded man's wrist like one would a hyperactive toddler. Acting more cleverly than a child, the man took the golden opportunity to snatch the pistol from James' holster and aimed to shoot him right in the back of the head. If it weren't for Al's deafening shout, James would have never moved out of the way quick enough to spin, grab the criminal's arm and bend it backwards to the point where it snapped like a branch. The bearded man gave a high-pitched shriek, almost like a woman, and fell to his knees holding his injured arm with his operating one. Without showing any sign of remorse, James roughened him up to his feet and cuffed both wrists. Throughout their entire exiting sector 40.5, the bearded man continued to wince and sob, finally realizing the error in his actions.

"It didn't have to end this way," Al kept telling him, "You could've surrendered, but no—you attacked two officers _and_ attempted to kill one. You'd be lucky be lucky to avoid execution."

As the criminal was successfully transported to the military precinct, he was taken in and was officially removed from their hands...excluding Al's. Since Al was the highest ranking among them, he had to stay behind for further processing of the culprit. James, as loyal as he was, promised that he would wait outside on the steps until he were finished so they could go home and grab another bite to eat. As he sat on the steps alone, he drank some ice cold water out of a foam cup. Having his attention grabbed by delicate footsteps coming down behind him, he turn just to see Sylvia walking past him. He didn't notice it before, but Sylvia was unusually quiet around him,

"Good job back there," James tossed in a compliment to grab her attention.

As she turned to look at him, a strange and evident feeling came among them both. Her eyes were beautiful enough to hypnotize him with a simple gaze, but a stalemate occurred when James looked right back. After a brief stare that felt longer than it actually was, she was the first to look away,

"Mhm," she nodded faintly, "Thanks."

Without exchanging any more words, she walked.

* * *

James and Al were just outside the apartment after obtaining some food for themselves. Like always, they were concealed in brown paper bags and James crinkled it evenly, in fear that his oatmeal would spill out and ruin his bag and sloppy his container. Entering the building, they climbed the steps and Al reached into his back pocket for his keys, patting around endlessly until he checked his left pocket for a second time. He pulled out a pair of keys with a key chain resembling a Firefly pendant. James never noticed it until now,

"Where'd you get that?" James asked curiously, discreetly pointing at by simply nudging his wrist.

"I don't think you're ready for that story," Al excused.

James wasn't going to let Al get away with another story this time. After spending most of his days will Al, James realized Al was very secretive. He'd bait you, reel you in, and flop you back into the water.

After unlocking and twisting the brass doorknob, Al and James opened their door to a slender figure standing in the middle of the room with its back turned. Its face was well hidden, yes, but he was too well known by familiar faces to slip by like that. Strapped along his back was his signature katana. Although he looked like a fully completed action figure, Caleb appeared to be petrified from moving. He was caught in the act of rummaging through a soldier's house—but not just _any_ soldier.

"Cain?" James called in disbelief, almost revealing his true identity.

Caleb slowly turned around, looking over his shoulder with the hood cloaking only half of his face. His tall nose protruded out from the side, and it flared the moment he realized he was in grave danger of a psycho killer. He was the Firefly and Al presumed the role of an exterminator. The most troubling part was seeing James walk among another soldier in his uniform. It scared him to the depths of his feet.

Before James could get another word in, Al dropped his bag of food to the floor and immediately charged at the trespasser. Showcasing his impeccable swiftness, Caleb blindly slid the scabbard off of his back and butt the ridge of the handle into Al's face, uppercutting him square in the snout. His skin became enraged with redness as he fell back and momentarily played with his nose as if he were trying to crank it back on. James, who looked indecisively from behind couldn't do anything but stretch out an arm and ponder on who to aid first. To his dismay, things inevitably turned for the worse. Al lost his mind in that moment and brought his arm forward in hopes of delivering a bone crushing punch to Caleb's fragile looking face. It could break a couple of bones, but only if it managed to come in contact with Caleb. Caleb leaned to the side with precise timing, having the punch luckily breeze above his shoulder. He proceeded to counterattack, grabbing the arm and flipping Al onto a glass coffee table in the center of the living room. The sound of shattering glass rang those within earshot and ultimately left Al dazed, with his rear end sinking into the middle of the table's steel, frame. Caleb stepped back into the thin corridor, already breathing heavily from the fearful pumps of the heart. He looked up at James who stood speechless and frozen at the entrance, his hands still clamped onto the doorknob. About ten seconds later, Al decimated the obscurity in the room with a wheezy cough. Once James fully entered the room, Caleb fled like a frightened pigeon unaware of what side James would choose. He broke into a full out sprint and vanished within seconds after slamming Al's bedroom door behind. James dashed after him, nearly running into the door since it seemed to be barricaded shut by something on the other side. He repeatedly rammed his shoulder into the door about three times, hearing a mysterious crack from the other side each time it was slammed. On his third ram, the chair wedged underneath the doorknob on the other side dismantled since it could no longer take James' brutal force, sounding like a wad of sticks being bent simultaneously. Quickly scanning the minuscule bedroom, he was surprised to see Caleb nowhere in sight. James' eyes were quickly led to the curtains being blown into the bedroom by the opened window. James quickly ran to the window and looked out, seeing that it unknowingly led to a fire escape. He spotted Caleb running on foot through the back alley and he instantly reached for his pistol. Following Caleb's position with ease, he thought to himself that if he were to pull the trigger, Caleb would've been finished—he was sure of it. Therefore, he didn't pull it. Caleb's speed skipped him across the wide puddles of water and his long legs carried him out of sight within seconds.

Al showed signs that revealed he was coming to his senses. James returned to Al and knelt over the shards of glass to examine his current state. However, most of his focus continued leering towards the bedroom. James stood up and walked to the apartment entrance and stuck his head out into the hallway. He looked up and down both ends, hoping no soldiers in the vicinity heard the commotion. Luckily for them, no one was alerted and James sealed the door shut to avoid any suspicion of passerbyers.

Once Al opened his eyes, he noticed James overlooking him. Looking into it way more than he should've, he weakly lifted his hand to be aided erect by his most trusted comrade. James tightly grasped Al's hand and pulled him up just by using the strength of one arm. Once Al made it to his feet on his own and quickly recovered, he walked into his bedroom and kicked around his belongings in anger. He shouted and muttered to himself about how he felt violated having his personal belongings touched by Caleb.

James, who was still distraught at the entire situation, rested by the door and stared directly at the ground. The first thing on his mind was how Al played such a valuable role in this entire thing. Although Caleb expressed many times that he didn't feel comfortable around Al's presence, why would he break into his house?

 _The Sword._

"You alright?" Al asked.

James looked up, seeing Al walk out of his bedroom, armed to the teeth with an assault rifle in addition to his pistol,

"What are you doing?" James asked uneasily, pushing himself off the wall, "W-what are you doing with that?"

"James…" Al said putting his hand in a calming gesture, "Just relax. I'm not going to hurt him."

"Then why do you need that?!" James asked briefly pointing at the weapon in a flustered state, "If you weren't going to hurt him, you wouldn't need that! I know he broke into your apartment and trashed this place, Al, but...j-just let me go after him!"

"I can't do that," Al patronized by shaking his head calmly, "I can't."

"Why not?!" James asked sharply, trying to retain some calmness.

"He _attacked_ me, dammit! Now, calm down, alright?!"

" _You_ attacked him first!"

James returned to raising his voice, and their conflict went on a little longer than expected. It reached the point until he boldly stomped closer to Al and poked Al's chest with his index finger. Al kept his composure although he was a little shocked that James could get personal over someone who was such an instigator. If they were in each other shoes, Al would've supported James one-hundred percent (easier said). One of the rules of the military were that you had to support your brothers no matter what! Al felt completely disrespected. He was beginning to question his friendship with James. Al stood his ground, showing that he stood firm with his beliefs. He hoped it would never have to get to that point, but If James even bothered to stand his way any further, he'd be taken down too. For that thought to even cross his mind, killed him.

James silently paced back and forth for a minute or two to cool off. He guarded the entrance from anyone entering _or_ escaping. Meanwhile he was calming down, Al was growing more impatient at the thought of Caleb escaping. Given all the time that he was trapped there, Caleb was probably halfway across the Capital Parkway. He sat in a tall stool and began to tap his feet agitation. James noticed it from afar and decided to pop one final question. A question that would possibly stall,

"Answer me this…" James crossed his arms, "Cale…" he paused, " _Cain_ has a sword. And a while ago, he hid it in a secret place so no one else in the zone could get to it. Then a couple days ago, someone stole it. Then he shows up here, and all of a sudden has it…" James took a deep breath before asking a question he probably wasn't prepared to get the answer for, "Did you take it?"

"Maybe he had the sword the whole time?" Al asked fixing his position in his stool.

"No!" He responded at the lie. However, he calmed down by closing his eyes and clearing his head, "No...he would never lie about something that, Al. I know him. Now, did you take it?!"

Al looked away while rubbing the dry stubble and ingrown hairs on his face. Eventually he began to chuckle while staring out one of the windows in the room,

"It's funny how you think you know people," Al commented generally, "Yeah, I took the sword...but need I say, I know him too?"

James looked at him confused, whether he was confirming or denying,

"I know the truth about Caleb, James…" Al confessed as if he beat him at his own game.

James face immediately grew pale at the sound of his true name from another's mouth. He gulped,

"What do you know?"

"That you're both wanted by Boston. For execution." he looked up with a faint smile, absorbing the defeat of a not-so-clever James, "A couple of months ago, a wanted sheet was faxed here. Just one," he presented his index finger, "Boston would be lucky if any of the other zones have their fax machines still up and running. See, I'm in charge of that kind of paperwork and it's authorized for my eyes and my general's eyes _only_. Once I saw your name and picture on that paper, I couldn't believe it...I just couldn't. I myself asked so many questions, but I could never rat you out. I know you aren't a traitor and I know you're not a Firefly, and I know there's some sort of explanation. But as for Caleb? I can _smell_ it on him. It's all over his smug little face," he said chillingly distasteful. He stood up from his stool and walked over to James, resting each hand on his shoulder, "You're my best friend, James; we grew up together. So you know what I did? I took the paper, crumbled it up, took a stroll far out of the zone, and threw it over a bridge so no one else could ever get their hands on it," he turned away and walked back to the stool, sitting more relaxed than before, "I mean, I would hate to use this against you...but you're in my debt. And if you loyalty really lies with the military instead of the Fireflies...I'm giving you a chance to prove it."

James was back to leaning on the wall with his head down, looking more beaten than fists and Infected could ever do. Al continued to talk,

"Now tell me James, what'd he do?"

If there was anything Al could do to bring James on his side, it would be to make him relive the entire experience. Just as planned, by the time James was finished telling the entire story, he was on Al's side. He was played like a fiddle—cluelessly manipulated for an agenda that would only benefit Al and no one else.


	19. Chapter 18 - City Island

Caleb strolled down the parkway, emotionally inhospitable since severing the invisible thread that bonded him and James. He never came to terms with it, but it slumbered deep in the shadows of his mind—his subconscious. He hated being alone, and being alone was beyond scary. After months of acknowledgement by allies, Caleb learned that being acknowledged was important. If he was alone, and happened to die during his journey, it would be like slipping from existence. Death wasn't something to look forward to, but being remembered was worth more than words could articulate. Contrarily, when death occurred, you lived on forever in someone else's mind. But Caleb wouldn't have that now that he was on his own. This neo-life had a tendency of tearing people away from you, and tearing you away from others. It was selfish, but Caleb believed he had it worst of all despite meeting people like Olivia and Mikey.

Defecting was a difficult choice, but James was becoming a complete liability with his unwise choices. It was like constantly trying to prevent a toddler from putting the wrong things into his mouth. Caleb wanted to take on the role with jurisdiction, but he did nothing but excuse James and follow him around like some bewitched familiar. It was degrading and it would have eventually gotten him killed—the predicament that just occurred in Al's apartment was living proof of it.

Next objective: Firefly owned quarantine zone. It would be quite the travel, and it should take him no longer than seven months, max, to get there on his own, especially with no map.

The climate probably had to be one of the coldest autumn weathers Caleb experienced this year. He buried his hands deep into his pockets as the winds whistled loudly and broke through the layers of his clothes and cloak of a hoodie. The current parts of the road Caleb was traveling on was deserted, but there was an upcoming maze of cars a couple of meters away, awaiting to be navigated through by their next survivor. However, accompanying the ambient sounds of the strong breezes, Caleb could hear a soft humming. It grew louder, as if it were an acceleration of some type of machine or motor. Slowing down to a halt, Caleb turned around, looking around at the road. Just like everyone speculated about themselves; did he finally go off the deep end and lose his mind?

As he squinted his eyes to get a clearer look in the distance, he could see a sky blue colored vehicle driving over an elevated part of the highway, speeding to catch up with him. Caleb saw two heads in the front and instantly knew one of them was Al. Caleb turned his attention back to the maze of cars and began to sprint towards it, hoping he could reach them in time before the vehicle caught up to him. Logically speaking, once he entered the maze of cars, the speeding vehicle would be barricaded from passing through and they'd have to get on foot to chase after him. Caleb was, without a doubt, like a track runner, but it was impossible for any track runner to outrun a car going over 90 mph. Without even looking back, Caleb believed he had a chance, but he saw the rusted vehicle swerve in from the left and cut him off from the clutter. It came to a halt, accompanied with the smell of burnt rubber and the sounds of soft sputters and rattle. Caleb disliked the smell of the rubber, experiencing it for the first time. As he stepped back and took a closer look at the vehicle, he saw James climb out of the passengers seat, soon to be accompanied by the driver: Al.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" Al asked rhetorically after slamming the car door.

Caleb, fearfully examined the both of them; there was no way he could make it out of this one. Looking at James one final time, he spoke,

"James?" He said in disbelief.

"You ruined his life before," Al interrupted, "And you're not going to do it again. _He_ belongs here. Not some fuckin' Firefly."

Al's words meant nothing to him although they might've had a stronger impact if it came from James instead. Ignoring Al, he proceeded to calmly attempt getting through to James,

"James, I know I should've told you this earlier, but he was the one that took my sword. He knows everything about us: The execution, the Fireflies, everything! He told me in the bar. Then he threatened me," his voice cracked, but he professionally averted his tears. As he opened his mouth one more time to ramble on, James cut him off,

"I know…" James said, somewhat ashamed in himself.

Caleb couldn't wrap this anomaly around his finger, but what else would he expect from such a complex mind like James? What else would he expect from a soldier he often doubted? Instead of doing what was right, he would do anything to remain apart of the US military; everything they had endured to get here spoke for itself. Caleb brought one foot back and quickly turned to escape when he realized he was scammed to get the short end of the stick. He already knew he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell, but it didn't hurt to try. In a matter of a seconds, James tackled him to the ground, scraping Caleb's cheek. Fighting Caleb's arms behind his back, he placed all his weight on Caleb by sitting on top of him and locking his lower body together with his massive thighs. Caleb gave a horrific shout, getting an unpleasant taste on what his treatment would consist of. Al's bar story played like a broken record in his head. The most painful part of this treatment was that James would play a predominant part in it.

Al walked in as if he were apart of a calf roping sport and bonded both Caleb's arms and legs with a pair of plastic handcuffs. Given a sore throat by his own yells and exhausted by his own resistance, Caleb calmed while he was easily carried by both of the soldiers. He attempted to make it difficult by shifting his weight around, but it was of no use. Still managing to hold his bonded legs with one arm, Al opened the back trunk with the other and hauled him inside like a heavy sack. Still breathing heavily, his chest rose and fell as he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. Al ordered James around like a spineless maggot and demanded to shut the trunk as he walked off and planted himself in the driver's seat. James rested his shaky palms on the top of the trunk and Caleb spoke,

"Will this make things better?" Caleb calmly asked him.

James couldn't answer or even look at Caleb in the face. Instead, he had a look on his face that Caleb recognized when James struggled to make the right choice—a poker face with a heavy bottom lip, avoiding to make eye contact at all costs. The only thing to wait for was the choice James would ultimately make,

"If it makes things better…" Caleb rested his head back and turned the other way, facing the inside of the trunk, he took one final breath, "Then it's okay. I'm tired of running and I'm tired of fighting...I'm tired."

"I'm sorry," James finally replied after a long pause.

It wasn't the answer he was looking for, therefore Caleb didn't respond. He submitted himself, awaiting for the new path his destiny encountered. Hearing the opening of Al's door, his footsteps were heard coming back to the trunk of the car. Instantly, a loud slam was heard and Caleb was encompassed in complete darkness with an inescapable, moldy odor. He heard two slams, indicating that the soldiers were both settled in the car. Caleb closed his eyes to get a sense of comfort, but also listened in on what sounded like an argument. Both James and Al were shouting at each other, fussing back and forth with one another. It was like a smirk grew on Caleb's brain once he figured that he could already use their rocky friendship to his advantage. Soon after, the car began to speed off.

* * *

Al transported James and Caleb to a small island in the center of the Susquehanna River. The island was formally known as City Island and held recreational activities such as baseball games and other sport events. The island was inhabited by all things Infected and extended about two miles out from the quarantine zone by bridge. The skies were dim, the atmosphere felt gray scale, and everything that might've have been vibrant back in the olden days were expired and lackluster. Dirt, moss, and vines covered nearly every inch of the island. The stainless steel bleachers were covered with dried blood and decorated with cobwebs and all sorts of earth's natural condiments. Forsaken cars with busted windows were scattered in the parking lots, some still rammed into one another as a result from the start of the outbreak.

They were taken inside of an old small house that use to serve as an arcade for children and teens—anyone of all ages if you were as open minded as James. Old dusty arcade games fell on top of one another while most remained standing. In the middle of the room was a folding chair, and Caleb sat strapped to it. To avoid any of the Infected from coming in, Al locked all the entrances. Throughout the first couple of minutes, Al did nothing but humiliate Caleb in front of James to "show how weak he was". He slapped him, spat on him, kicked him, and ultimately ended up with Caleb turned over on his side, laying in a puddle of Al's urine. The treatment made James' stomach twist like a ringed washcloth, and caused him to ball his fists until his knuckles cracked. Al ignored it, thinking he would somehow be able to help James channel that anger onto Caleb. James helped pick up Caleb and the chair after he was politely ordered to.

Al was becoming fed up watching James stand around and do nothing. It was time to prove that his loyalty really rested with the military, and the only way of proving that was torturing a warmongering Firefly. He knew James well enough to know that that sort of the violence wasn't in him, but it had to be his gateway. Al's finger was itching to pull the trigger, but vowed not to. If he did it, James wouldn't learn a thing...and who knows how James' would've reacted. If James did the deed, he had no one to blame but himself. In the end, he would come to a realization that he made the right choice—so Al thought.

The faint noises alerted some of the Infected in the area, causing them to approach the windows of the small arcade house. Most of the windows were barricaded by the tall arcade games, not giving the Runner outside any chances to come in. However, because they would eventually need to come out sooner or later, Al took it upon himself to get rid of them. He needed to have someone's blood on his hands at the moment. While he walked to the exit, Al looked back only for a moment before he unlocked the doors and went to the outside,

"James, I don't care how you do it. Just kill him or I will!" Al angrily expressed, "We talked this over already. He screwed you over, now it's his turn, tenfold! You have a pistol, fucking use it!"

As he slammed the door on his exit, you could hear the screams from the outside being lured away from the house. Momentarily lingering on Caleb, James quickly walked over to one of the windows but struggled to get a full glance since there was a heavy arcade game blocking the view. James turned back around and silently pulled out his pistol while Caleb's back faced him. Caleb was conscious, but mentally lost. His head hung low as he sat soaked in another man's urine and in his own self-pity. Once James stepped in full view of the Firefly, he brought up his arm and held the gun inches away from Caleb's face. Caleb strained to look up at him, stretching his neck ahead so his forehead could touch the tip of the gun.

"Go on…this is what you want isn't it?" Caleb said with a tremble deep in his voice.

"Shutup!" James' voice echoed, having saliva fly from his mouth, "I know what you're doing—trying to fucking guilt trip me. Al's right! I'm a fucking idiot for making you walk freely like this. I had _so_ many chances to kill you...and I just...I just couldn't! That time during that ceremony, the museum—all I had to do was _pull the trigger_. Then we would've never gotten to this point! Why couldn't you just leave, Caleb? Why!? Things would have been fine if you just left and never came back and n-n-now...now I have to kill you!" he took a deep breath, "I have to kill you, because if _I_ don't," he pointed at himself and then towards one of the boarded off windows, " _He_ will!" James used the back of his hand to wipe his face and pointed the gun back at Caleb. His legs were separated at shoulders width and he tensely wobbled back and forth.

The relaxing of Caleb's body caused his head to pull away from the gun and back down. Although James' message might have sounded all over the place, Caleb knew his feelings well enough to understand it's complexity. He inhaled and then exhaled, glancing upward.

"I-I already told you I wanted to make things right...a-and I failed okay? and...and I don't think I can ever make things right," He sniffled, "I know it's weird, but...I actually...I—" Caleb paused looking for the right words, "Traveling together for so long? I actually learned a lot from you _and_ a lot about you, you know. I didn't exactly plan for this to happen—neither of us did. Like, yeah, you can be a royal pain in my ass, but I actually really fucking care about you, okay? There I said it. _That's_ the reason I came back. And it's scary because I never realized how much I missed that feeling: to care...or to be cared for," his lips made apprehensive noises, figuring out what right thing to say next, "And I'm not an idiot, but I feel like you feel the same way...or else you would've never came back for me back in Albany."

"I don't think I'll be able to live with myself if I let you leave…" James confessed, "And I won't be able to live with myself if I let Al kill you."

"Is that why you have to do it?"

"I don't know, Okay?!" James shouted.

"Then come with me, James. How many evils of the military do you have to see in order to realize that this isn't the place for you? You aren't like them and you know it! Killing me won't make a difference when Wells finds out you're still alive. The military was numbing you in Boston a-and it's picking up where it left off. That's why you're here," he paused, "With a gun pointed at my face."

Those final words were so powerful, it instantly struck James' left arm limp. His arm fell to his side and he momentarily stood in silence reevaluating everything. He gazed at the pistol in his trembling hands. It was like he suddenly came to his senses and realized that the Al he use to know was completely erased and long gone. Al was a reflection of what James would soon be if he didn't leave this place quick enough and the doppelganger from his nightmare was the embodiment of that reflection. Harrisburg may have been more laid back, but the results were always the same everywhere you went. James was just willful enough to not be affected by it any sooner. Quickly walking back to the one window that showed Al's position, James struggled to move the heavy arcade machine out of the way. Reaching the point until every vein popped out of his arm, he slightly shoved it until he could get a good view. He witnessed Al stabbing some Clickers behind a group of trees as if it were quenching a thirst for blood. For the first time ever, James depended on the Infected to buy him some time and decisively returned behind Caleb and fell to his knees. Caleb's forehead wrinkled from the raising of his eyebrows as he felt the plastic handcuffs being cut from his wrists. After the cuffs were cut free, Caleb's arms freely flopped to his sides. Due to the tightness and poor circulation in his arms, there remained some painful tingles in his forearms. He rubbed his bruised wrists as James walked in front and cut his ankles free as well. James returned his knife into the hidden holster around his ankle and helped Caleb up from his seat,

"Let's go!" James ordered.

Caleb stood as if he was unresponsive, frozen in his steps. It was hard to put is trust back in someone who almost killed him because of some mild manipulation and peer pressure. Even if it were a lot more than that to James, the soldier couldn't blame him. He stepped closer to Caleb, looking down at the swordsman,

"C'mon, let's go…" he repeated calmly and more reassuringly, "Let's go, alright? I'm _sorry_. I'm so, so _sorry._ "

He reached forward and reeled Caleb in by the shoulders. Caleb's feet slid against the floor as he weakly avoided to be touched. But never having enough strength to overpower rare affection, he was pulled into a full embracement. James ignored the stench and state of Al's urine and proceeded to caress the back of Caleb's soft hair while Caleb's head rested lifelessly on his shoulder. He repeated "I'm sorry" over and over again until he assumed it was enough to become registered. Caleb couldn't properly react because he was too distraught to process everything that was happening. Someone he thought he could trust bet his life on the simple flip of a coin and he was afraid it could happen again.

* * *

Al returned inside of the arcade house, covered in the blood of five Infected from head to toe. Closing the door behind him, he wiped his forehead, smearing the blood around his mediocre face like some sort of psychopath from a Stephen King novel. As he walked further into the arcade house and neared the center, he was shocked to meet an the empty chair standing over a dried spot of piss. Sneaking in from behind, James cocked his handgun and rested it on the base of his skull. Al scoffed and slowly raised his arms in the air. He was being underestimated because he _knew_ that he could have taken out James in a split second. He was armed with an assault rifle and could have shot James with a flurry of bullets in under a minute if he wasn't interested in seeing how far this would go,

"Get your stuff, Caleb," James demanded as his finger sat on the trigger.

Caleb crawled out from behind one of the arcade machines and strode over to a corner where his bag and katana rested,

Al tutted and shook his head,

"Aw, I planned on cutting off your arms and legs with that…" Al said, exaggerating an ashamed tone.

James couldn't fathom that such horrendous words were coming out of an old friend's mouth. He never predicted that someone could change so gravely in a matter of a few years. Caleb may have been in somewhat of a delirious state, but his tongue was too sharp to be bit back,

"I plan on cutting off your dick since you can't properly use it."

Al whistled, amused at how the the two were almost like accessories to one another. He had to admit that he admired when they were together, they were a force to be reckoned with. They were fearless, which was one of the reasons why one them had to go (preferably Caleb). Al began to slowly lower his arms, testing James to see what he was capable of.

"Stop moving!" James shouted.

Al ignored him and proceeded to slowly bring his arms down, looking to the corner or his eye and eventually swapping his gaze back to Caleb.

"I SAID STOP FUCKING MOVING!"

"SHOOT HIM!" Caleb shouted.

By that point it was already too late. _Hasn't changed a bit_ , Al thought to himself. Once Al rested his hand on his assault rifle, Al lifted his foot and delivered a devastating stomp to James' left foot as it stood behind his very own. James shouted towards the ceiling, having speckles of spit escape his mouth. He felt sharp cracks in three toes between his first and last and pulled the trigger as a reflex, having the bullet ricochet off a wall and fly elsewhere. Al was prepared to aim and shoot, but before he could do that, James tackled him from behind knocking the assault rifle out of his hand. It skidded against the cold floor and slid underneath an ancient foosball table. Only having his legs bonded by the hold of James, Al was free to reach down and grab the handgun from his holster. James reached up and grabbed Al's wrist, twisting it in painful positions so he could release, but Al's desire to kill overcame any sensation of pain. Finally wiggling a leg free, Al kicked James square in the face, leaving two prints and another bloody nose.

Caleb quickly pulled out his sword from his scabbard and dashed towards Al, wanting to purge such a wretched being from this world. As Al saw an opening to grab the pistol from his holster, he snatched at it and pointed it at Caleb with little to no concentration and fired the bullet. Caleb skidded to a stop, shouting and closing his eyes as a fearful reaction. A kiss from death: The bullet luckily collided with his katana in the blink of an eye. The force of the deflection yanked the katana from his grip and hurled out of another window across the room, spinning and crashing through the glass. Caleb, now weaponless, stood like a deer in the headlights. However, Al would have killed Caleb, had he not taken the time to praise himself. James searched Al's ankle since he couldn't have time to reach his own, and yanked out the ankle knife all soldiers possessed. Holding the handle with both hands, he impaled Al right in the thigh. Al let out a sharp yell before regaining his focus and attempting to pull the trigger once more. With the knife still in place, James twisted it, causing more gruesome screams and groans to emit from the pit of Al's throat. The weak pull of the trigger, caused another bullet to fly out, but missed. Caleb leaped into the air as a reflex and didn't waste any time at kicking the pistol out of Al's hand, failing at an attempt to also break fingers. Although Caleb was seen as a Firefly, he had the military to thank for when it came to his combat skills. He had a history of acing all of his classes, which was why he was eligible to join the Boston military. _When_ he got involved with the Fireflies, was the 64,000-ration question.

James quickly stood up in the midst of Al's cries and looked down at his former comrade in disbelief. His calf was severely bleeding through his pants and was creating a pool a blood underneath him. James extended his arm over Al and pulled Caleb beside him like a protective guardian,

"James!" Al roared loudly, "Fucking traitor! How—ugh," he struggled to move, "HOW COULD YOU!?"

"Let's go," James calmly hurried.

"He's _still_ alive!" Caleb argued, "He'll come right after us!"

"There's no time for that, just go!" James rushed him from behind.

Caleb was the first to exit the arcade house with James managing to catch up although he had a mild limp that he could shake off. It was clear that James already decided that he didn't want to kill Al, and it was hard for Caleb to come to terms with. Thanks to Al's bullets, there were screams coming in from all directions. It was an island, yes, but it was an island connected by three bridges, which still gave Infected the chance to wander unto the island. After being advised to locate his katana, Caleb found it standing in the dirt just outside the window it flew out of. Grabbing it by the handle, Caleb yanked it out like a triumphant knight and its sword in the stone. James limped after him and was eventually aided with the help of Caleb to the vehicle left unlocked in the street.

James eventually released Caleb once he was safely transported to the passenger's side and circled around the front of the car to make it into the driver's seat. Opening the door and slamming it as he sat, he reached for the ignition and paused with his jaw dropped. He opened the sun visor and even searched the broken glove compartment for a pair of keys. As he sat back straight up, he cursed,

"Shit!" he exclaimed, punching the steering wheel, "He has the keys."

Quietly considering to himself that he should probably go back and check Al's pockets, he turned and looked back at the arcade house as a reaction. Feeling his stomach jump at the sight of Al just a few feet behind the car, James yelled "duck!" before multiple gunshots were fired at the back of the vehicle. The back lights were shattered including the rear windshield and the car immediately bounced and fell uneven as one of the back tires were popped. James and Caleb practically buried themselves underneath their seats. Regardless of James' size, he forcefully crammed himself in for his own safety.

Loads of agitated screams and moans were heard coming from Clickers and Runners alike, who were now closing in from all directions—crossing the bridges, creeping out from the trees that surrounded the island, and pouring out of vacant buildings. Al's attention was now diverted on the Infected and he already wasted so many bullets that his rifle was running extremely low. The boys took this as their chance to escape him and before they exited the vehicle, James reached into the backseat and grabbed his backpack buried underneath the scattered shards of glass. As they exited the car, they beamed quite a distance to reach one of the bridges that basically extended off to the opposite side of the island. However, there was one issue,

"Half the bridge is missing…" Caleb said between heavy breaths as he slid to a stop.

What they didn't know was that the bridge collapsed back in that day from a severe blizzard in 1996, when the world wasn't a living hell. It lost two of the seventh western spans, and eventually lost the third. Due to the harsh conditions and cold weather, it was swept away by the raging waters of the river that winter. It became a historic moment ever since...at least to the people who cared.

Caleb was sealed in and overshadowed by a rib cage of branches from the tall trees on the sideline. To add to the obscurity, a school of crows randomly cried out from behind, calling Caleb's attention to a Clicker that was fighting its way through a group of bushes. Caleb, with his katana wielded tightly in his grasp, waited for the Clicker to come at him before he could slice through the hard fungus with ease. Blood poured out of the present slit in its face as it fell to its knees, still having the dulling sword jammed in its skull. Caleb brought up a foot, and rested it onto the corpses shoulder, slowly pulling his sword free from the Clicker.

James', who seemed to be faltering behind, because he still possessed a weak heart, worried that Al wouldn't make it out alive from the sudden swarm of Infected. Just as James, Caleb also stood distracted. A runner took Caleb by surprise and jumped him from behind. The Runner got a lucky swing and knocked the katana from Caleb's hand in the process. With its forearm bleeding uncontrollably from a nick of the sword, Caleb was bum rushed into a tree. He shouted as his back was slightly punctured by a broken branch. Using all his upper body strength he held back the Runner by wrapping his hand around his throat and resting another on its shoulder. Growing weaker and weaker, his arms were giving in as the rabid Runner inched closer to his face. Caleb stared at its teeth, noticing rotten pieces of flesh, yellow foam and taking a whiff of its rank breath.

"James!" Caleb shrieked.

Timed grunts escaped his mouth as he felt the hot breath of the Runner inches from his neck. Having its teeth merely touch the surface of his skin, the long haired Runner was towed away at his scalp. James slammed it to the floor and delivered four heavy blows before it got the chance to jump back to its feet. James delivered a final kick, breaking the jaw of the Runner. The Infected might have lacked their sanity, but were completely capable of feeling pain. At the sound of a soft snap, a bone protruded from underneath the skin of its face. It unclearly cried in pain as it naturally held its face, and screamed even louder every time it was touched. Reaching for Caleb's sword nearby, James grabbed the weapon and stabbed the Runner through the stomach as it squirmed around helpless on the ground. It held the blade with both palms, blood running down its arms. Caleb, who was already jumpy to begin with, was aided to his feet by James,

"You alright?" James asked, gently touching the bruise, he caused, on Caleb's face.

"Yeah...I'm fine," Caleb winced, shoving James' palm away and immediately reaching for his sword.

Being returned to its rightful owner, the katana was settled in its scabbard along his back. Caleb glanced up at James who seemed to have his eyes fixated on him in an unreadable way. Reluctantly breaking the gaze, Caleb looked over James' shoulder and noticed that Al was no longer standing on the road, but was in the vehicle starting up the motor. The traitors both ran and hard as they could until they reached the bridge they initially planned for.

By that point, Al had already started up his car and was racing after them. About two Clickers ran into the road; one was immediately tossed into the air and hit the ground, ending up like a sack of skin with broken bones; the second was ran over like a nonthreatening speed bump. The Infected's blood decorated the hood and splattered from beneath each side, adding a sticky red design to the rusted rims.

The bridge was already in a bad condition after all these years of no one tending to it. The fact that the bridge already collapsed once, meant nothing to Al. To make matters far worse, the bridge was only used for 'pedestrians' to travel on foot; it was no place for a car. And once Al's vehicle passed onto the bridge, the entire structure began to cradle back and forth.

Due to his injuries, James was the first to stumble from the vigorous waves of the bridge. Quickly, he stood back up and limped hastily to the edge of the bridge with Caleb, who would be first to leap off. Looking back one final time, Al's car was only within a couple of feet of them before it could lethally catapult them into the air. With their fingers crossed, Caleb and James both sprang off the edge and screamed on their way down into the river beneath them. After a loud submersion into the clear water, Caleb paddled as bubbles were formed around him from the heavy motions of his body stroking through the water. Kicking his legs as hard as he could, he resurfaced, trembling because of the autumn weather. He took deep breaths and pinched his nose free of any water that might have got into his nostrils. After acknowledging that he was in one piece, he looked around for James' presence. He frantically splashed around, looking for any sign of a body.

Suddenly, Caleb felt a tug on his shoe from underneath. He shouted as half of his face was pulled back underwater, but James calmly floated up beside him, wiping his own face with both palms. He too was breathing heavily and had difficulty keeping himself afloat. The blood-stache above his lip become re-moistened,

"You alright?" James asked, breathing heavily and trembling as well.

"Y-yeah," Caleb replied.

Just when they thought things couldn't get any worse, a rainfall of about five bricks began to splash into the water around them. One, hit Caleb in the shoulder, making him shout and instinctively swim backwards. James and Caleb looked upward to see one of the pillars beginning to disassemble. Initially, it was already falling apart, but the heavy car from above began to loosen them more.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Al silently said to himself, attempting to restart the motor.

He turned the keys about three times. The car sputtered until his fifth attempt and the old car was eventually revitalized. As the bridge beneath him began to give way, he quickly switched the gear shift into reverse and stomped heavily on the gas. Only inches away from safely driving back to the first segment of the bridge, Al's heart dropped when he realized he was too late. The front of the collapsing segment dipped into the river, slowly taking the car down along with him like an apprehensive swallow. As the back bumper was knocked against the sturdy segment of the bridge behind him, it sent his car flying forward since its rear wheels were knocked into the air. Because of his weak and blown out tires due to his earlier shoot out, the vehicle began to slide at the steepness of the platform. Even though it was all out of Al's control by this point, he kept his foot on the gas. It didn't make much of a difference because the more the bridge sank, the lower Al was brought into the river.

Caleb and James continued swimming onward and attempted to mimic historic Olympic champions. The boys miraculously avoided all of the alpine-colored bricks that toppled around them and sunk to the depths of the river. Around them shook, and the colossal bridge roared and creaked from above just as it crashed and dipped into the water. Completely unaware (and better off that way), the deadly edge of the bridge missed splitting them, from their lower halves, by the skin of their teeth. A heavy splash imploded from behind them. The airborne water returned down, crashing on each of them, like being trapped amid a heavy rainstorm.

Caleb was the first to look back and see Al's car slowly descend towards them,

"James!" Caleb cried out, tapping James' back.

James turned around and ended up with the same mortified expression Caleb had three seconds earlier. The vehicle reached the point until it was completely pulled into the water and quickly drifted towards the wanted criminals. They both grunted as the front of the car forcefully weighted them back underwater. Al, who had gone unrecognizably mad with anger, reached for his pistol in the passenger's seat. Although he could feel the incessant water rise at his feet and pour in through the cracks of the sunroof and doors, he proceeded to check the ammo. By the time he had the gun aimed, he was prepared to hold his breath once the water touched his throat. He took a deep breath and filled his cheeks with air. Pulling the trigger three times at point blank range, the only thing between them was the windshield. The windshield and water gave the bullets a difficult time to break through the thickness. However, the third bullet managed to break through weakened spots and shot right past them. By the time Al was attempting to get out the car, James already managed to breakaway; and with a little help, Caleb was also free in no time. They both swam their hardest to the surface, leaving Al to silently pound the windows as hard as he could.

James was the first to resurface, taking in long breaths of air. Second was Caleb, who violently coughed out water from his lungs, gagging. The closest land to them was City Island. Instantly, they swam back to the island and headed for the trees and soil.

It was such a tiresome swim that it concluded James' work out for the day. Both survivors climbed out the river, soaking wet. Caleb crawled unto the land and instantly threw himself on his back, ignoring the patches of dirt that clung unto him. James sat in a hero pose and somewhat wrapped his arms around himself to keep himself warm. Struggling to stand up, he could feel the sharp pain in his partially numb toes now that things had calmed down. He turned to look back at the river, depressed by his old friend's tragic demise. Turning from where he stood, he spotted the main and largest bridge that led unto the highway. It was hard to miss but furthest away from where they were,

"Caleb…" James huffed, "Caleb, come on, let's go. We have to leave now."

Caleb weakly turned over and struggled to his feet, giving a final cough.

"Whe-where should we go?"

"We can worry about that later, we just gotta get the hell away from here," he caught his breath, "The soldiers will probably be coming any minute now after all the noise we just made."

"How can we—"

There wasn't any time to play twenty-one questions right now. James still pondered on how he made a difficult decision that was completely detrimental to his reputation. He had the option of clearing his name, at the cost of someone else's life—and he made his own choice. Although he wanted to stray away from all things military, the teachings were still embedded in him like a religion. There was so much on his mind. They had to find some shelter quick before one of them ended up with hypothermia, infections, or some shit. James turned back to tell Caleb one last thing and realized something that made him froze with panic: Caleb was nowhere in sight. James quickly assumed that Caleb was playing around, although it was exactly opposite of him to do something like that. It was something he hoped for.

James called out his name in hopes of getting some sort of response. He slunk about eight feet back to where Caleb last was and looked down at the ground. There was another pair of footsteps present in the soil, and it showed signs of struggling.

"Caleb!" James shouted even louder.

Instantly, cutting through the trees and bushes, James was surprised by an incoming Clicker. James took out his handgun and shot it about two times in the face. Frantically continuing to search the woods, James stepped out from behind a large tree trunk and spotted Caleb laying on the ground—with Al was sitting over his body, strangling the very life out of him. Caleb's eyes were widened and bloodshot, almost as if they wanted to jump out of his sockets. His vibrant brown skin was seen turning red in certain areas. Al was giving his all, psychotically shaking while Caleb was beginning to slowly slip.

"N-no!" James shouted while breaking into a full run, "NO! NO!"

It was clear that Al had taken on a new obsession with wanting to murder Caleb. James tackled Al from him and sent them both rolling to the side. James quickly got up and tried pinning him down to get through to him, but his words were pointless. And even though Al was pinned down, he skillfully kneed James in the groin and sent him flying off him within a matter of seconds. He jumped on top of James next, and delivered two heavy hooks that instantly gave him a painful root canal. James cried out in pain and slowly squirmed in place until he laid on his stomach. He spat out a bloody wisdom tooth that contrasted with the dry soil and looked at it in a dazed state.

"Why won't he fucking die…!" he heard Al mutter to himself like a lunatic, "Die! Die! Die!" He repeated.

By James's tooth, laid his pistol that was knocked out of his hand. Slowly, he reached over just as Al was getting prepared to crush Caleb's face with a sizable, jagged rock,

"A-Al" James weakly coughed out blood, "Al, stop...please."

Unable to be persuaded, even by the strongest force, Al lifted the rock with both arms to give Caleb a deathly blow. Aiming directly for Al's chest, James' saw his unfocused hand tremble robustly as it reached out. Not wasting a second more, he silently sobbed and pulled the trigger. Al's eyes widened and he instantly fell to the side as he felt the painful pierce of the bullet. He weakly brought up one palm to his chest to feel his dying heartbeat and looked back at his bloodied palms. He watched the skies through the branches of the dancing trees; almost as if they were waving goodbye, and a school of crows flew overhead.

James, who was now in a crawled position, noticed the slowing of Al's rigid breathing. Soon afterward, his body stopped functioning, lying lifeless on the cold soil. James' face was completely pale to the point where the only apparent color was the redness underneath his eyes and bloodied nose. His gaze then switched over to Caleb, who appeared to be dead as well. James quickly crawled to his body and examined him: James felt no pulse.


	20. Chapter 19 - Beautiful Ones

**WINTER**

* * *

After what went down on City Island, James didn't have time to process his grief. Before all the commotion could alarm the quarantine zone, there was one thing James had to do: Get the hell out.

With new exposure to siphoning gas, his technique consisted of connecting seven bendy straws and using a two liter bottle as a substitute for a plastic funnel. Through all the constant hiding, it was added pressure to find an operating car, and it had to be quick because his days were now numbered considering that the military seemed to be picking up his trail. There was only so much he could do to cover up his own tracks.

Within a week or so, James found an old family van with enough camping space on the inside. When he learned he could remove the backseats, that's exactly what he did by tossing and toppling them in the streets. However, the van only lasted him a good couple of miles. The car drove far enough to get him into Ohio, and it died as soon as it reached Columbus. James didn't know much about cars, but no amount of gas could do anything about it...so he left it to rust.

Surprisingly enough, a four week's trek without much food or sleep was enough to land him in a monumental mall, in Indianapolis, called Clearview Mall. This part of Indiana's capital was small, so many of the homes were at a tiring range for James to walk. Although his leg was about fully healed, there were still limits that came with it. James had walked so much he was just about becoming fed up with it. He needed rest. The reason for seeking shelter in the mall was because the weather had bordered winter, and the winds were becoming frigid to the point where it could give the chills and flu. Plus, there were many benefits in spending the night in a place as large as this: It gave you a sense of what the world use to be like, it provided perfect shelter since buildings like this usually remained standing, and enemies were easy to lose.

To add to the weight of James' equipment and backpack, was Caleb's backpack as well. Sticking out of Caleb's bag was his sheathed sword, something that hadn't been touched for an awfully long time. Not hearing Caleb's voice was something incredibly depressing, and no matter how many times James tried to rationalize what happened to Caleb back in Harrisburg, it was just impossible. Others who shared different views might've believed that Caleb had it coming. But James' mind couldn't cross any of that. It would've made sense about the _old_ Caleb to the _old_ James—but that was no longer them.

Sure, you could forgive and never forget, but Caleb managed to redeem himself in the eyes of James. But James was just too attention-needy to realize it.

Back to reality: James managed to sneak into a clothing store that had its doors knocked down. Old summer pictures of models (which James imagined himself in) still hung on the chipped walls. Clothes were scattered on the floors and racks were tossed over like a tornado had hit. Silently making his way behind a counter, James rested the bags down on the counter and reached into his own. Pulling out a bright red brick, James subtly tossed it just a couple feet from where he was. Instantly, a Clicker ran out into the open from the back room and stood by the counter, looking directly in James' direction. Although he knew of their blindness, it effortlessly made the hair on his back stand. James quickly pulled out Caleb's katana, and attempted to stab the Clicker. A faint squeak was heard from underneath his boots and the Clicker immediately reacted, luckily steering clear of James' lunge. The Clicker reached over the counter and got a lucky hold of James, knocking the sword out of his hand and tearing through the sleeves of his top. One doesn't usually take an Infected's body type into consideration, but the Clicker was roughly the same size as James, and once he noticed that, he second guessed being alone.

Just as he was aiming to get out of the Clicker's hold, James stepped on a piece of paper that easily lessened the friction in his step. Essentially slipping forward, James was slammed into the counter, and yelled in both pain and panic. Frantically putting up his bare hands as a guard, James knew that it wasn't going to protect him from the flesh-eating chomps of a natural killer. He looked up at the Clicker just as the world around him fell silent, and got a mild tinnitus in both ears.

Like a baby dropping a toy to pick up another, the Clicker's attention fortunately focused elsewhere. Suddenly, James witnessed the Clicker being brutally tackled to the floor to the point where it's feet were lifted and it was slammed on its back. The Clicker swatted wildly at the air as it laid there, giving the known sign that it was stunned from the sudden impact. As it croaked repeatedly, it was impaled in the chest by the fallen katana and immediately cut off from the world.

Breathing quite heavily from recent struggle and his own heart palpitations, James looked up at see Caleb standing before him,

"You okay?" Caleb asked, just as breathless.

Imagine having a severe sore throat from a cold. Severe to the point where you can't make a sound. Now, imagine that sore throat somewhat getting better. You can't scream or hit certain notes, but your voice has a rasp that you find alarmingly attractive—that was Caleb. However, he wasn't recovering from a cold, he was recovering from being strangled the holy hell out of.

Moments later, James reinstated his state of mind to the right place. Obviously still a little shaken up by nearly dying at the hands of some Clicker, he came to a late realization that his sleeve was torn after Caleb gave it a strange stare. He was obviously thankful that Caleb came when he did, but he didn't have to say thank you to show appreciation, nor did he want Caleb to think that he didn't have the situation under control.

Roughly, he tossed Caleb's belongings at him, making Caleb catch it with little preparation. With unpleasant expression, he looked at James storm off from behind the counter and move towards the exit. They exchanged a couple of words which, of course, led to a misunderstanding,

"I just don't get what I did wrong..." Caleb softly said, power walking after James.

James rolled his eyes as he was walking on the mossy tiled floors,

"I told you to wait outside."

"I know, but-"

"So why didn't you?" he said turning back his torso while walking

"Because? Its creepy as shit out there?" he carelessly shrugged, "Plus, you had my stuff. What if that Clicker was out there instead of in here…? I would've been dead."

James came to a stop and swung his finger into the air, bating his finger around like authority figure.

"Don't talk like that!" James said, getting an eye roll as a response. He then regressed to his previous state and adjusted his bottoms by tugging up his belt, "And when did you get your voice back, huh?"

"...Today?" he paused, "Yesterday?" James glared at him, and the longer he glared, the more it stung, "Alright fine, it's...it's been a while."

As James scoffed at him and walked off, Caleb followed, feeling like a scolded child. He thought the appropriate treatment for a choked out neck and a mistrusting ex-soldier was a near-month's silent treatment. But Caleb would be lying if he said he didn't get some sort of satisfaction watching James grow frustrated over it. Since then, he came to a realization that he wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for James; especially when he preforms CPR to save your life seconds after your heart stops beating.

* * *

It was a stormy night, and it took a low rumble of thunder to wake Caleb up. He opened his eyes and blinked them repeatedly before remembering where he was. When you moved around so much, you tended to forget where you last fell asleep. Sometimes you ended up having the strange desire to wake up somewhere else—usually your most favorable.

He was in a small office, sleeping on multiple layers of blankets and clothes. He turned over and looked over at a notable silhouette sitting up against the wall. It was evidently James, and he was wide awake.

"Rise and shine," James said.

Caleb sat up and stretched until the joints in his arms and back gave a satisfying crack,

"Couldn't sleep?" Caleb asked.

"Nah, I'm all caught up."

"Same here…"

James was going to speak, but closed his mouth before saying anything. An awkward silence sneaked up on the two before James could get up and retrieve his belongings. He pulled his backpack from on top of the office desk that was barricaded against the only exit in the room.

"What's up?" Caleb asked.

"Uh, nothing. I'm pretty bored. I'm gonna walk around, so…" he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders with a little bounce and spoke, "You're welcome to come if you want."

To sum things up, Caleb eventually agreed to go after some convincing. He showed some concerns for their safety, but James was smart enough to make Caleb's head big by telling him that nothing could get past Caleb and his sword. _Damn right_ , Caleb thought.

With the help of Caleb, they both lifted the desk in order to avoid it from dragging on the floor and making any noises that could alert some potential threats. After getting it far enough from the doorway, both Caleb and James exited into a shop—a cap shop. The interior of the store was relatively small compared to the other stops in the mall, and it was pitch dark since the windows were boarded up. James was the first to toggle on his flashlight and look around in hopes for finding a cap that wasn't taken from the shelves...but there was no such luck.

James favored caps, and it was one of the reasons why he constantly wore his military cap when he had it. It was a big deal when he traded his with Mikey's, but Mikey's cap was too small to fit his head. Things James liked about caps? He found them stylish and loved the the fact that you could wear it backwards, to either side, and still look good. He wasn't allowed to wear it in such a manner when on the job, but he did whenever he was indoors or on his own,

"What'd I'd do for another cap," he sighed.

"You know if you wear those too much, you can actually go bald," Caleb oddly enlightened.

"How the hell can a cap make you go bald…?"

"Not entirely bald, it can just...recede your hairline. Once your hairline starts receding, it won't stop," Caleb was already standing beside James, and he unexpectedly ran his fingers through the sides of James' hair, "And you've already got thin hair."

James stared at him for a moment and crossed his arms with a smirk. Caleb subtly raised his eyebrows, hoping he would respond.

"Do you always have to try and crush my dreams?" James said, looking in Caleb's direction.

"...I didn't mean-"

"It's alright. I'm only kidding," he patted Caleb's back, "Come on."

Of course, James' always underestimated his own strength, so Caleb stumbled forward a little after getting patted on the back. He followed after him and eventually took lead. A folding gate was responsible for guarding the entrance, but it was partially pulled open for them both to squeeze past. They were out in the open on the second level of the mall. One passage was cut off by a caved in floor, and the other was open and clear, leading directly to an escalator and bunch of other stores. Caleb looked up to his left, seeing where the ceiling had fallen in and dismantled part of the second for they were on. Walking extremely close to the edge of the floor, he watched the rain pour in and partially flood a small section on the floor below them. "Come on!" Caleb heard, turning to see James run off into the opposite direction.

As Caleb followed after him, his eyes were mostly caught by the vibrant lights that were still on for some of the shops. Since it had been ages, a majority of the mall remained dark, but there were enough lights to give James and Caleb a thrilling feel,

"How'd all these lights come on?"

"Don't worry about that," James dismissed.

Since a lot of the stores in the area were closed off, there were only a selected few that James and Caleb could explore. Their first location was a store called 'Spencers'—an edgy, yet risqué shop. The shop sold everything from band merchandise, to gag gifts, to sex toys, which was extremely bizarre for Caleb to be around since he considered himself so prude. James, did nothing but have a good laugh at it all.

James walked further into the back of the store meanwhile Caleb took a look behind the counter. James was too distracted to notice, but Caleb had just found a box of caps stacked on one another. They weren't the caps he'd usually wear, but there were some that were just downright funny and enough to get a giggle out of Caleb. He covered his mouth and looked over his shoulder, hoping he could take James by surprise.

"He'd _love_ this," Caleb muttered sarcastically.

A couple minutes later, Caleb's believed that he found the perfect hat for James' cranium. Stepping on broken bulbs and torn pieces of paper, he walked into to the aisle he last saw James in, noticing that a lot of the items on the shelves had been turned on. There was neon colored lamps; LED spot lights that came in purple, blue and green; lava lamps; and plenty of other toys. There was only two passages, and just as Caleb turned from one passage into the other, he didn't see James anywhere. Stopping in his tracks, he looked around,

"James…?" Caleb called out.

"Boo!" He heard from behind as something hard and plastic was thrown at his back.

Caleb jumped, attempting to shout but having nothing come out. On the opposite end of the aisle was James, who went completely undetected by turning off his flashlight. He was holding his stomach, chuckling at the very fact that Caleb couldn't even scream.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he said, holding onto a shelf and laughing, "I had to. You should've seen your face."

"The hell is that?" Caleb asked while James carried on with his laughter. Holding his chest, Caleb pointed his flashlight at the transparent, tubular item on the floor. As he bent down to pick it up, it began to wildly vibrate. Getting frightened again, Caleb dropped it right back to the floor while taking a step back, "Shit!" he cried, looked back at James, who was laughing even harder. After realizing what it was Caleb gave a look of disbelief, "Ahh...gross! James, I've heard stories about those!"

However, Caleb didn't break much composure and kept James' 'gift' hidden behind his back while he silently freaked out. It vibrated again just as he heedfully stepped over it, causing him to skittishly run into James direction. He was practically inches from falling on his knees from laughing so hysterically. Once Caleb caught up to him, he gave him a playful punch on the arm.

The prankster eventually calmed down once his attention was grabbed by a flipping rack on a tripod. On the rack were large posters that eventually transitioned from trippy, colorful, and psychedelic pictures to obscene images of blonde women participating in activities that women normally wouldn't participate in, in the nude. A condescending catcall whistle escaped his lips, and Caleb judged him from where he stood,

"Your eyes forgot to bug out your head..." Caleb said. He stood beside James and flipped back to one of the pictures, "Sometimes I can tell _why_ the outbreak happened. Men damned the world."

"Blue balls alert…" James said while flipping through the posters, "Cover your eyes, Caleb. This is for big boys," he paused and turned back, "Seriously though, how old are you again?"

"Wow, you forgot my age? Douche," Caleb said, clear with sarcasm, "Nineteen."

"Please, I bet you don't remember how old I am."

"Twenty one…"

"Lucky guess…" James said, continuing back to flip through his softcore porn, "I should stop looking at these before something really gross happens—opps, too late."

"Wow," Caleb said, reeking of more sarcasm, "This moment couldn't be any more perfect for your gift."

"Whatcha talking about, Willis?" James asked, not taking his attention off the poster boards.

Unmindful of Caleb moving in behind him, James froze once he felt something being placed comfortably on top of his head,

"I found you a cap."

James looked over his shoulder with an excited smirk. However, he paid close attention after noticing that Caleb had a stifled look on his face—like someone was bending back his finger and he was trying to hold in a painful scream. His lower jaw was pushed forward to tighten and thin out his lips, looking like he had some sort of under bite. Growing suspicious, he took off the cap and looked directly at it. It was a brown trucker hat that said, "Save a Virgin" in large green letters. Posted diagonally underneath it in red letters, similar to a stamp, said, "Do me Instead."

"Save a Virgin. Do me Instead," he read dryly altogether, "Ha-ha. Hilarious," James mocked, playfully glaring at Caleb, "How do you know if I'm a virgin or not? People love this," he flexed both of his arms, licked his pink lips, and delivered a kiss to each bicep.

Instead of answering or smiling, Caleb stuck his tongue out sauntered off to the store exit, whereas James watched him from behind,

"You know what? Screw you, alright? I'll own this hat! I'll be the coolest virgin out here," he turned his cap backwards.

"Coolest _balding_ virgin," Caleb added.

"Ha, so you admit I'm cool?" James proudly asked, following after him, "Am I apart of your cool club now?"

"You're alright…" Caleb answered with a smirk while walking backwards.

Lighting up the entire mall, lightening flashed before being followed up by a low thundering rumble. Caleb slouched and leaned back on the balcony, resting on both elbows. James walked closer and stared at him in such an obscure way, seemingly having a joker smile on his face. Suddenly, something ruined Caleb's tranquility. _Was it my creepy smile?_ James thought to himself. Caleb was now standing stiff and giving James a look that made him anticipate something bad was coming.

"...What's going to happen to us after this?" Caleb asked, "Y'know...since you already made up your mind not wanting to stay in California and all."

"Don't know," James shrugged. He looked away, almost pained that such an unwanted question could come up at the most inappropriate time. But it was better to address it now, "I'm just tired of having to choose sides. And I have to drop you there...it's the least I could do after...well, you know...everything. I'll hit the road from there and see if I can find some allies or...something."

"You make it sound so simple. It's not that simple, James."

"I know. I know it's not. But the car sounds promising...and you _promised_ me a car when we get there."

"No, yeah. They'll definitely give you a car as a reward for bringing me there. I mean, I'd be lucky if we even made it over there alive," he paused, "We've had some pretty close calls, huh?"

James just nodded in silence. Upset, Caleb turned away and looked on from the balcony, trying to hide his emotions like always. He was talented at it to the point where one could believe that he truly lacked any kind of emotion. But after spending months on end with him, James not only learned about him, but he also helped to unlock the complexity of Caleb's identity. If anything, Caleb was, by far, the most emotional person James had ever met. Although there were times when he was upset, cynical, pessimistic, and apathetic, there were also times when he was sincere, dependable, empathetic, and even scared.

Regardless of everything that happened, James just wanted to put a smile on his and Caleb's face for the sake of Caleb survival and mere presence. He had just killed his own best friend, and he was beginning to wonder why...why wasn't he feeling as bad for Al's death as he thought he normally would? To him, all that mattered was Caleb's safety, and their quality time together was making him forget all of the skeletons in his closet. A 'normal' relationship didn't do that. It might have been a stretch, but whenever he was around Caleb, it was equivalent to being in paradise.

James continuously stared at him from behind, taking in his portioned profile and features. He felt the dire need to get something off his chest—something that had miraculously struck from the moment he laid eyes on Caleb,

"Uh, Caleb," James started off when the loud thunders rolled in, "There's something I have t-"

"Cool…" Caleb randomly muttered as the roars let down, "Let's check out that music shop down there," suddenly pausing, he looked at James lips, "Were you saying something?"

"Nah," James shook his head, "Let's check out that music."

The ceiling just above the entrance of the music store was torn open and broken apart. Since it was raining, a wide leakage of water was blocking off most of the entrance. Caleb placed on his hood and was the first to enter, whereas James entered afterward, combing back his shiny, neat pompadour (he got it when he was getting settled in Harrisburg) with his fingers. The carpets were completely drenched with water, having a gross and moldy odor.

Neither of the boys were surprised at the fact that there were loads of vinyl records and CDs left behind. Music was something completely undervalued in times of panic. Who would think to grab music? If anything, music was seen as loud and a complete danger; Infected and music were like moths to a flame.

"Um, wow," Caleb said, sounding something other than actually excited, "These are, like, suu-per retro," Caleb shuffled through the tables of records that were still in mint condition.

"Retro?" James repeated, confused.

"It's like another way of saying something's old, but cool. Man, I really wish I could listen to some of these."

"Maybe you can…"

Caleb looked at James in bewilderment. James knew better than anyone that there was no way to use a record player without electricity, but James was convinced he could somehow get the music to play, especially for Caleb. He was a pretty smart guy sometimes, so Caleb took his word for it and let James have his moment. He advised Caleb to pick out a CD by the time he got back, so as soon as James left, Caleb went hunting for a case that caught his eye. Right off the bat, he found an album called _Purple Rain_ by an artist named Prince and the Revolution. It was a retro looking CD cover with the picture of a man on a purple motorcycle. The man on the bike was (presumably Prince) flamboyant as hell. On the left and right margins of the cover were floral patterns on a white background.

James returned a couple of minutes later, appearing solutionless and empty handed. Caleb wasn't surprised as he approached him with his hand out,

"What?" Caleb asked, cradling the CD away like a newborn.

"Give it here. Trust me, and don't move 'til I come back."

"...Okay," Caleb groaned, rolling his eyes.

James examined the CD case with an impressed look made up with a heavy bottom lip and a nod of approval, giving Caleb the notion that they could agree that it was gravitating. Putting the CD case underneath his shirt to avoid any damage while passing underneath the artificial waterfall, James disappeared out of sight again. _The hell is he up to?_ Caleb asked himself. Caleb returned to a pile of records that he neatly organized in alphabetical order, just to convince himself that he was somehow contributing to the forsaken shop.

Once it was about fifteen minutes since James' departure, Caleb was beginning to think that something might have happened to him. His mindset went from James being eaten by a Clicker to James falling in a nine foot ditch and breaking his legs. As he nervously paced back and forth, he braked to a stop as the speakers all around the mall started off with the mellow note of an organ. Just as it transitioned into a higher note, a harmonious voice accompanied it,

 _Dearly beloved_  
 _We are gathered here today_  
 _To get through this thing called "life"..._

Prince's voice was so elegant and majestic, that Caleb absolutely fell in love with the genre right away. It was 80's funk, and everything that was wholesomely earlier than 2013 was appreciated. A smile appeared on Caleb's face as the poem continued on for another couple of verses. The words being spoken by the singer was said back in the 80's, but it still managed to have a mysterious, yet relatable effect on the listener. Eventually the organ became accompanied with bumping drums and an electric guitar, making Caleb repeatedly tap his feet and hands. Taken by surprised, Caleb turned to a couple of "psst!" sounds coming from behind the thin waterfall. Caleb slowly walked up to the leakage, seeing an animated form that was definitely recognized as James. Instead of speaking a word, James made some hand signals that Caleb had difficulty understanding and eventually ran off. Reluctant to react in any way, Caleb followed the figure, with his eyes, as it jogged out of sight. Caleb proceeded to emerge through the other side of the waterfall and ran his fingers through his moist curls. Caleb's eyes darted around from everywhere on the first level and up to the second,

"Let's play hide and seek!" James' voice echoed like some paranormality

"Hide and seek?" Caleb repeated, looking up to the second level. He spoke calmly in hopes that James could hear him over the raindrops and music, "James, this isn't safe. You're taking the fun out of this. I thought _I_ was suppose to take the joy out of things."

"You are. You're it!"

Footsteps suddenly departed and Caleb instantly followed after them by running up to the second level via escalator. As Caleb sprinted through the upper levels, he caught a glimpse of James turning a corner. As far back as Caleb was, he could see a dead Clicker being flopped to the ground. _Shit!_ Caleb cursed to himself. The thought of there being Infected in the middle of this all definitely took the joy out of things because it meant a risk to James. As quick as Caleb was, he eventually reached the corner and turned it to see that there was more of the mall to wonder. Looking down at the Clicker beside him, Caleb examined it—good, no signs of wet blood on its mouth. The only wet blood was its own, pouring out of its throat.

As a flash of lightning reappeared, a thunderous rumble was enough to skip certain parts of the music. As the first Prince song finished, it moved on to its second that started out with a barrage of drum beats. It was more upbeat than the first, but it wasn't enough to heighten Caleb's spirits. If anything, it oddly added to the suspense.

"James this isn't funny!" Caleb shouted over another sound of thunder. Again, the song skipped ahead a couple of seconds.

This time, hearing another pair of maddened screams and croaks coming from the lower level, Caleb took his sword out and immediately chased after them. He breathed frantically as he ran down a separate pair of escalators and climbed over massive debris that were formerly a part of the malls' upper levels. Nearly slipping over a large puddle caused by the intruding rainfall and leakage, he throttled on until he made it towards the end of his path. Incoming, was a large shop with heavily tinted windows. On each side of the opened entrance was a Runner and Clicker, sitting up against the wall. Dead leaves and debris crunched underneath his feet as he ried to get a clear view of the inside, from the outside.

Looking up, Caleb saw an unlit sign that read 'Gentleman's Angels Club'. The interior was dimly lit with few purple and blue strobe lights. He could feel his heart pound, afraid of discovering what everyone expected (but didn't hope for) would happen to an ally. As Caleb walked through the first pair of doors he re-curled his fingers even tighter around the handle of his katana. Jumping out from behind the entrance, James met Caleb with a loud roar. He had a golden colored party directly on top of his cap like some bootleg unicorn,

"AGHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh..." James' aggressive roar eventually died out into a weak one. Caleb, who stood in place, blinked at him repeatedly with a deadpan face. James' legs eventually straightened out, and he stood straight, "What? That didn't scare you?" He removed the party hat and tossed it to the floor.

Caleb returned that katana back into its scabbard and turned away to exit. However James's arms swooped in from behind around Caleb's shoulders and redirected him back into the strip club. James closed both entrances as Caleb looked around the strip club in discomfort. He noticed a bar, the booths, and four strip poles in the center of the room. The club was the only room that shared the same speakers as the entire mall, so Prince's music continued to play. This reassured Caleb's positive situation, and he continued to silently jam out to the music. Turning back around, Caleb gasped in surprise when James' was practically in his face. He cleared his throat and casually stepped back,

"Why the _hell_ is there a strip club in a family mall?" Caleb asked, forcing a chuckle.

"Dunno. You gotta admit this mall's pretty weird."

"Yeah," Caleb agreed, briefly turning away, "And you never told me how you got that music to play."

"I found this CD player that ran on batteries in Spencers, so I just brought that to the intercom room and figured it out…" he said walking closer.

Caleb's fingers fidgeted while they were put into his pockets and he walked behind the bar, getting a good view of the complete interior of the club. There were bar stools that surrounded the counter and the three center poles were directly in his view. In the meantime, the music changed to Prince's third track, starting off with a mixture of beautiful organ playing and a synthesizer to imitate drums, accompanied by a catchy backdrop. Eventually, the played instruments become louder and more intense. It was Caleb's favorite start to any song of Prince's so far. It then started off with high pitch vocals,

 _Baby, baby, baa-by_  
 _What's it gonna be_  
 _Baby, baby, baa-by_  
 _Is it him or is it me?_

James was standing at the far end of the counter and was distracted by Caleb's amazement, more so than the sensational music that filled the room. James leaned onto the counter with his hands folded and was somewhat shaken by the similarity between him and the lyrics,

 _Don't make me waaste my time_  
 _Don't make me loose my mind ba-by..._

James cleared his throat a couple of time to grab the attention of the Firefly. He took a deep breath and straightened out his clothes before standing erect and walking towards him,

"How would you feel if I told you I planned this? Like, all of it."

"This? Like hanging out tonight and stuff?" Caleb asked, having James follow up with a nod, "I dunno. I guess I'd be thankful," he leaned in on the counter, "Did you?"

James nodded again, giving a nervous chuckle.

"I remember you noticing the lights were on and stuff," he scratched his sideburns with a finger, "Yeah, I found the power breaker for the mall and stuff. It wasn't as much as I had hoped, but it's cool. I walked this entire place before you woke up. It's how I knew where the intercom room was. The vibrator and music though? I didn't plan those."

Caleb laughed, having a smile stain his face from blushing. James accompanied him with the laughter. To his disadvantage, his lighter skin was enough to reveal the pinkish hue in his ears.

"What made you do it?" Caleb asked, looking over at him.

Caleb noticed the fading of James' smile once he asked. The pair eventually competed in an awkward stare before Caleb was the first to look away and look directly at the four poles in the center of the room. Since James normally possessed a brave soul, he mustered up any residue of confidence in him that could bring him to honestly answer Caleb's question. James inched even closer beside him and guided Caleb's arms off the counter top. Forcibly making Caleb face him, he interlocked their hands. Caleb looked up at him, having the strobes reveal glossy, thin tears fester in his eyes. He stared directly into James' alluring pair—dark brown; with monolids and all. To Caleb, James possessed eyes that figuratively smiled in sync whenever his mouth did. And with that being thought of, James smirked in response to Caleb's telling emotion,

"C'mon...I know you've felt it," James' whispered softly.

"What…?" Caleb questioned with a rasp.

"I've felt it. Since the day I saw you," another pause ensured between them, causing James prepare himself for his next statement, "J-just don't freak out, okay?"

James could tell that the Firefly had encountered a weak point in showing affection once he broke eye contact, therefore, James volunteered to take slight control of the situation. He gently pressed Caleb's back to the bar, resting his contrasting chest against Caleb's. James softly placed one hand on the side of Caleb's neck, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin. He used his thumb to push up Caleb's jawline and proceeded to lean in. James closed his eyes and gave Caleb a soft kiss on the lips, having it last a couple seconds longer than he initially planned. While kissing, James sensually rubbed the back of Caleb's head and neck with his palm and even sneaked a couple of fingers past the neckline of his top. As a result of Caleb being so compliant, James grew undoubtedly aroused. He sharply inhaled through his nose and pulled away, giving their fresh lips time to unfix. He gave a quick peck to the corner of Caleb's lips before becoming more assertive. He brought up his other hand and gently cupped it underneath Caleb's throat. As he tilted his own head inches away from Caleb's face, felt felt his long nose brush against his own and moved in for another one. The third time their lips touched, their kiss came to a passionate start, resulting in Caleb letting out a soft moan in between. Soft sounds could be heard coming from their lips, causing James to move his arms down and wrap them around Caleb's waist. James separated his legs and slightly bent them, pulling Caleb in by the pelvis.

By this point Caleb could tell that things were going to escalate after months of possible tension. He couldn't allow that, so he moved his hands to James' chest and luckily turned his head away,

"Okay," Caleb breathlessly said. Partially too invested to understand what a simple 'okay' might've meant, James reeled Caleb back in. And even though Caleb avoided his kisses, James moved on to delivering slow pecks to his neck, "James, stop," he spoke again.

James paused with his face practically buried in Caleb's hood. He released him and looked down at him,

"...Too much?" he asked, trying to catch his breath. Caleb nodded with a smile. James leaned in and gave him a wet kiss on the forehead, "I'm sorry, it's just...it's just that," he paused, "I've been meaning to tell you just look _so_ much better without a black eye," James teased.

What normally would've been a punch was bizarrely replaced with a blush. Caleb fixed himself up and walked out from behind the bar, he pulled the doors open and exited,

"Does this mean you aren't saving a virgin?" James asked.

"Gross..."

James rested his hands on his hips like one would after finishing a work out and looked down with a smile. He was proud of himself for what he accomplished—which was essentially telling Caleb he had feelings for him.


	21. Chapter 20 - 'Who's Ariel'

**SPRING - THREE YEARS AGO**

* * *

The bell rang throughout the halls to indicate that classes were over. The hallways flooded with chattering students, all falling within a spectrum of personalities, backgrounds, and appearances. The time came for most of the students to either call it a day, visit the mess hall, followed by study hall, and do what they pleased before it was time to get settled into their dorms. Caleb wasn't interested in what anyone else would normally do, but Caleb would go into the library, find himself a good book to read, and read it during his alone time in the cafeteria.

He had just finished military drills and absolutely despised it. He despised it even more since he didn't know anyone else in the class. He knew Ariel, but Ariel would never show up because skipping class just seemed more promising for some unknown reason. Most of the lessons required using guns, which Caleb detested mainly because Caleb had a terrible aim. He was even told by his instructors that he would shoot his own eye out before shooting someone else. A gun just simply didn't belong in his hands.

He was the last one in the locker room, putting away his combat uniform and elbow and knee pads. Standing on the side of his locker was an old photograph—a family picture. In the center of the picture was Caleb's mother who had both of her arms wrapped around Caleb (who was on the left) and his older brother, Ariel (who was on the right). On her face, was the brightest of smiles that was genuine enough to overpower your mightiest burdens—which in Caleb's case, was this stupid class. Caleb stood around in the locker room in a white undershirt, bizarrely staring at the picture for the longest time before he could sit down on a bench and stare at it even longer. He often found himself smiling so much he had to teach himself to stop doing it in public or else he would get strange looks from other students. Suddenly, a hand swooped in from above his head like an eagle's talon and snatched the picture from his fingertips,

"Aw does, momma's boy miss his mommy?" A dark haired boy with glasses said after examining the picture.

"Yeeeah!" his brainless comrade said with a goofy laugh, "Momma's boy?"

Caleb didn't know either of their names, but they had been picking on him for the last couple of months now and he was slowly growing fed up. It wasn't as bad as before. It was until he reported it to his instructors, things began to escalate. His teachers either excused it with the "boys will be boys" talk, or the "If you can't defend yourself from a bully, how can you defend yourself from an Infected? Maybe this school isn't for you." Right—because they're totally in the same category, but Caleb got the gist of the latter.

Caleb stood up and was around the same height of the kid, it's just their build that varied. When the dark haired kid moved closer to Caleb, so did his comrade. If there was anything Caleb knew, it was to not pick a fight alone in the middle of a locker room. Something like that recently happened, and one of the kids ended up getting stabbed by a group that jumped him. Instead, Caleb took two subtle steps back and put out his hand,

"Just give it back. Please?"

The dark haired boy nodded quite impressed, mocking Caleb for making the right choice. As he looked over at his minion, he was also doing the very same,

"You know what? Sure," he held the edge of the picture with both fingers and lifted it between both of their faces. Quickly, he proceeded to tear photograph down the center.

"What the fuck!" Caleb cried, frozen.

The tearing of the picture was like the tearing of his soul. The pain was so unimaginable that it was the only way to describe it. Before Caleb could reach out and snatch the separate pictures from his hands, each piece fluttered to the ground like dead petals. Meanwhile, the bully had a smirk on his face, his minion felt somewhat different,

"Yo…" his minion said timidly.

"What?!" the dark haired kid elbowed roughly, continuously showcasing his crooked smile.

Caleb stood in the same spot, holding his head down and balling up his fists. He breathed heavily to himself and kept his eyes tightly shut to prevent the bullies from seeing his weakened exterior. Soon afterward, he could hear their footsteps depart on the hard floor tiles and exit the locker room. Caleb forced opened his eyes and looked at each separate piece of the photograph before picking them up and tediously sitting back on the bench. He sniffled to himself and wiped his eyes as he saw a jagged tear down the middle of his mother's shoulder. However, he was thankful that the damage wasn't done to her smile.

A couple of minutes later, the minion randomly returned to the locker room with his hands deep in his hoodie's pockets. The minion was a ginger with a fiery orange jewfro and freckles. He was pretty small and was undoubtedly a military freshman. Caleb understood he was just trying to fit in, but he there were plenty of other ways to do that. He stood by the end of the lockers and speechlessly watched Caleb,

"What?" Caleb said, glaring up at the kid he knew he could easily beat down without his overseer present. The ginger didn't answer which only promoted Caleb to react more angrily, "WHAT!?" Caleb roared, kicking the locker in front of him in the process.

The minion remained silent and looked away,

"Yo, KJ!" they both heard the bully shout from outside the locker room.

"Your master calls," Caleb commented.

Quickly, the kid pulled some scotch tape from his pocket and placed it on the bench beside him. Caleb's evil eye followed the ginger's every move until he disappeared. The second ringing of the bell was sounded, signaling that everyone should already in the cafeteria. With his eyes still red and having a tear roll down his cheek, he looked back at the tape and threw it into his pocket. He pulled himself together and continued to get his clothes out of the locker. After locking up, he walked out with a navy v neck and pale grey colored sweatpants.

As he exited, he ran into a pretty girl just outside the locker room who was accompanied by three others. She had dark skin and dreadlocks that reached her shoulders, having a couple of them tucked behind her right ear. She held a number of textbooks to her chest,

"Hey, there you are!" she said, reaching forward and embracing his side with one arm.

Noticing something seemed a little standoffish about him, she awkwardly pulled away while Caleb stood immobile with his eyes widened. He tilted his head in confusion and scratched his head as a nervous reaction. She watched with anticipation and raised eyebrows,

"Um, d-do I know you?" Caleb replied.

"Nice to see you too, jackass," she chuckled with concealed offense, "Are we still sneaking out with the rest of the guys tonight?" She casually continued.

"Tonight…?"

Caleb turned around and looked back at the group of three friends that the young girl was socializing with. They all waved at him, referring to him by the name of 'Ariel'. Ignoring them with ease, he turned away. He knew exactly what was going on.

"We all made plans to go out tonight don't you remember…? You weren't that drunk last time we hung out, were you?"

"Um," Caleb shook his head as a reaction of trying to clear his head, "When was the last time you saw me?" Caleb asked with sudden interest.

"Yesterday. Oh my God," she paused and her jaw dropped, "You really weren't _that_ drunk were you?"

"No..." Caleb said with a grimace. He adjusted his backpack onto his lone shoulder, "Look, uh, next time you see me, tell me that I'm an asshole who takes his brother for granted. Alright? Thanks," Caleb patted her shoulder and walked past her, and continued down the hall without ever looking back.

* * *

Caleb sat in the mess hall, sitting at the end of the table: far away from some ill-mannered teens at his lunch table. His lunch tray had nothing but a red apple; which were rumored to be cloned by the government, but it didn't matter to him because he was starving since he last ate breakfast. As for the library books, it turned out that he already read all of them. He typically liked non-fiction stories and there was only a selected amount since it _was_ a military school after all. They only held books that were essentially military propaganda—history books, autobiographies, and novels about war. Caleb didn't take interest in those, _but_ there was one book titled _Red Army_ that was based on the concept of a World War III, and Caleb only knew there were two of those in the past. However, his pride would probably never let him get around to reading it.

While doodling in his notebook with one hand, and holding his bitten apple in the other, he felt someone randomly grab the apple and heard a sudden crunch come from their mouth. Caleb rolled his eyes and looked behind him, having his eyes chase the figure that circled around from the back of him and sit in front of him. It was Ariel, Caleb's twin brother. The only thing that differentiated him from Caleb was his two french braids, a few more pounds, and two beauty marks: one on the right of his chin and the other at the end of the right eyebrow. He was also wearing a grey top with camouflage bottoms. Although they were identical, Ariel cockily thought he was the more attractive twin. Caleb didn't really care about that since the only thing he had over Ariel was being four minutes older and clearly making wiser decisions.

Caleb tried to maintain his composure considering that he hadn't seen his brother in over two weeks. Naturally he would exclaim his name and greet him with with a dead hug, but Caleb was upset at his brother for vanishing for so long. His runaways were becoming more careless and extensive. This wasn't the freaking era where industrialization was booming; Caleb couldn't just use a cellular phone to check if his brother was okay. Products like that still existed, but still, only the privileged had them. Just as Ariel gave a smirk and giggle he brought the apple back to his mouth for another bite. Caleb stretched forward and yanked it from him,

"Thank you," Caleb said, taking the bite for him.

Ariel's mouth stood ajar while, continuing to raise both of his hands in defense,

"Give me a freaking break, I'm hungry!" Caleb ignored him and kept doodling and eating. The avoiding of eye contact and the persistent raise of his right eyebrow was always a red flag, "What did I do now?" Ariel sighed, "Is it a crime for me to have fun?"

"Yes. Actually, it _is_ a crime for you to have fun," Caleb calmly said without looking up from his paper, "Or whatever your definition of _fun_ is. We're in a military school now. If they knew you were sneaking out after hours, you get us fucking expelled, Ariel," he slammed his notebook shut and looked up at him, "Do you want that?"

Ariel fell silent and shrugged,

"Look, that doesn't matter..."

"And why not…?" Caleb asked, playing with a curl.

"Remember what I was telling you about the Fireflies? My friends and I are a step closer to finding them. And when we find them, I won't have to worry about this sad excuse of a military school."

Caleb kicked Ariel from under the table. He instantly winced and rubbed his leg,

"Stop talking about the Fireflies all the time! You're going to get us in trouble," Caleb whispered, "And those 'friends' of yours are going to get you killed if you keep hanging around them."

"No, they won't!" Ariel said, swatting the air dismissively, "Imagine the perks of your brother being a Firefly."

"You're impossible," Caleb scoffed, shaking his head.

When Ariel might have gone a little too far with his statement, he noticed Caleb beginning to grab his belongings to leave. Ariel reached forward and clenched his wrist,

"Wait! Wait! Wait! No! I'm sorry. Where are you going?"

"You don't care," Caleb said continuing to grab his stuff.

As Ariel reached out with his other arm and tugged Caleb's backpack, the opening of his backpack unzipped even more. In the midst of their quiet conflict, the old photograph fell out from inside Caleb's backpack and fluttered to the ground beside Ariel's foot. Before Caleb could catch it, Ariel jumped down to pick it up. A sly smile appeared on Ariel's face as he reached for it but it vanished after he noticed something about the photograph was off,

"You tried to tear me out of it?" Ariel asked after realizing it. He was incredibly offended, "I mean, _fuck_ , Caleb—I know you're mad at me but this is extreme."

"Relax," he calmly rested his palm on the table, "It wasn't even me. Some dickhead took it from me in the locker room and tore it in half."

Ariel stood up, slapping his fist in an open palm.

"What dickhead? I'll tear him up just like this picture."

Ariel paid close attention to Caleb's reluctance to snitch. However, when he looked at him, Caleb was already shooting someone a glare with the potential willpower to set them ablaze with hellfire. When Ariel followed his gaze to a loud, dark-haired kid that looked ridiculously obnoxious, Ariel looked back at Caleb to confirm. When Caleb took notice, he anxiously looked back down and resumed grabbing his belongings, including the photograph from Ariel's digits.

"What? Is that him?" Ariel asked, aggressively pointing across the cafeteria.

"Look, mess hall is almost over and classes start in like…" he looked across the cafeteria and examined the clock, "15 minutes."

"That's plenty of time," Ariel smiled mischievously.

Before Caleb could stop his erratic clone, Ariel was practically skipping across the mess hall to begin a quarrel and kick some ass. As he passed a quiet table of teens, he grabbed a small carton of milk from one the teens while they were drinking it. Caleb grabbed his backpack and followed after Ariel as quickly as he could,

"Ariel, no!" Caleb screamed out as he reached forward.

Within that moment, Ariel had already approached the table and turned over the carton of milk above the dark haired guy's head. His comrades, sharing the same lunch table, jumped backwards in fear that droplets of milk would leap on their clothes after dousing the bully's cranium. Just as the entire mess hall roared simultaneously, the bully gasped and slammed his fists on the table. He stood up and came face to face with Ariel, nearly having their noses touch. His dark hair was now laced with white liquid and he ran his fingers through it to get some of the strands out of his face,

"You wanna go again, momma's boy? I should fuck you up right now!"

Caleb pulled Ariel back a little too late—however, the bully was given a full chance to see the identical beings standing together in front of him. A look of contempt appeared across his face and he chuckled to himself,

"So there's two of you? Looks like I get to kick both of your asses," He asked, practically opening both arms out as if he was offering himself. A couple of chuckles were heard in the cafeteria, majority coming from his table.

"Listen, punk," Ariel spat, using his pointer finger like a demanding elder, "You might be able to push my pussy brother around, but not me," Caleb scowled at him from the side and Ariel apologetically shrugged after noticing.

As he looked back at the bully, the bully didn't bother wasting any time and tackled into Ariel. Caleb cried out Ariel's name as a fearful reaction and watched him get slammed into a painted, brick column. Immediately, the entire cafeteria began chanting and slowly transitioned into scattered yells and cheering. Scraps of food were being thrown from all angles and a fight eventually formed in the back of the crowd somewhere. Caleb's attention was too focused on his own sibling to give a damn about other unruly teenagers.

Ariel delivered a blow with his elbow into the bent over bully's back and proceeded to repel the the bully back with a professional box to the face. He covered his face as he teetered backwards. Strangely, Caleb was pushed out of the sidelines by the hectic mob of students and took it as a sign of officially being in the fight. Caleb exchanged looks with Ariel that only they would understand. Caleb walked in from behind and stuck his leg out behind the bully, causing him to plummet to the floor with a loud thud. Everyone in the cafeteria laughed and reacted wholeheartedly like it was their form of live entertainment. Caleb backed away from the bully and playfully fist-bumped his brother, finally giving a smirk that had rarely been showing itself recently.

The bully sat on his hindquarters and turned around to face his comrades who were all instantly put on the spot for not helping their dictator, especially the curly redhead—concealing his laughter at the perfect moment,

"Are you all just gonna stand there?!"

Two random boys hesitantly came to his aid and helped him up. One charged at Caleb with a punch right afterward, but Caleb dodged it and snuck his leg out once again, causing the teenager to stumble and trip into a lunch table. Again, the crowd shouted and groaned at the sight of his painful collision, but Caleb showed no remorse by grabbing the kid by the hoodie and swooping it over his head. He pulled the drawstrings of the boy's hoodie so hard that the hood tightened in around his nose. Giving a final pull downward, Caleb kneed the kid in the face and pushed him over as a result of being dazed. Looking over, Ariel was taking on both the bully and his second ally at once. Pushing them both away from him to the point where they slid back on the hard surface of the floors, their eyes were filled with fright that Ariel didn't even think he could evoke. Caleb walked beside Ariel, both having extremely different looks to their demeanor—Ariel, confidently straightening his stance, wiping blood from his lip and awaiting for another fight; Caleb, with an unsure look on his face and a slightly turned posture, facing his brother and preparing to avoid the bully for his entire existence. Caleb was thinking that he would never see the end of what Ariel started, especially since he would barely be around.

"HOOOOOOOOO!" A thunderous battle cry echoed throughout the cafeteria.

Surprised, the twins looked behind them at the exact same time. Ariel stumbled back, shocked, while Caleb covered his ears. Everyone froze in their places and the crowd of students quickly began to disperse at the sight of their principal.

* * *

"Well...what else was I supposed to say?" Ariel curiously asked.

"Anything's better than calling me a pussy," Caleb slouched, crossing his arms, "Talk about humiliating."

"Well...only I can humiliate you. That's what brother's do." Ariel nudged his knee with his own, "Plus, you gotta admit that was fun…"

Caleb looked over at Ariel who was fully grinning at him at the thought of it all. A soft chuckle escaped Caleb's mouth and he turned away, sort of annoyed by the fact that he could never truly stay pissed at his troublemaker of a brother.

"It was," Caleb admitted.

The principal's door opened and spat out the bully and his two loyal henchmen. Caleb imagined that standing up for himself had some sort of effect, because the bully didn't bother looking their way both upon his exit. If anything, his eyes were filled with tears and his skin was flushed red.

In slacks and an unmatching tie, a husky principal that towered over six feet stood just outside her office. She was heavyset and looked like your typical US veteran. She possessed a short flat top with raven-black dyed hair. Her gray roots were beginning to grow in and Caleb stared at it the entire time they sat in her office—which was surprisingly sterile, properly organized and decorated with everything imaginable to be patriotic.

"Mind telling me how this fight ensued..." she started off right away. She looked through the paperwork on her desk, "...Ariel and Caleb?" her eyes evaluated each of them at a time behind her spectacles. Just as Ariel was going to open his mouth, she spoke one last time, "I'm sorry, which one of you is Ariel?"

"I am..." Ariel said, slightly raising his hand, "...ma'am."

"Are you aware that your brother's attendance have been sort of off…?"

Ariel looked over at Caleb, who already saw where this lecture was going and nervously fiddled with his hands as a reaction. He looked straight into his lap.

"Yes...bu-but that's only because my brother's been covering for me," Ariel confessed. Caleb looked over at Ariel in shock. He was usually selfish and stuff, but there may be hope for Ariel yet after what he just pulled. Ariel continued, "I've been missing some classes and my brother has been covering for me…saying he's me and stuff. He thought he could do both but..." he looked over at Caleb, "I guess not."

"Figured that…" she replied, closing a folder, "It's impossible for any human being to be two places at once."

"Is he in trouble?" Ariel asked, "Please, he shouldn't be punished just because I was just being stupid."

"Look, this is how this is gonna work," She folded her hands and gave a stern, looking at the both of them with her unbreakable green eyes, "I'll give you both a wager. If your story adds up enough to explain how that fight started—and I'm sure it will, because Bucky is one helluva problem...then I'll give you both _one_ more chance. Understand?" They both nodded vigorously, " _One_ chance."

Ariel nudged Caleb's elbow off the arm of the chair and Caleb looked up at him with a look of withheld irritation. Once Ariel nudged his head and pointed his chin in the direction of Caleb's backpack, Caleb jumped to a realization,

"Oh!" Caleb softly exclaimed, reaching down to his backpack beside him. He pulled out the old photograph of his mother and presented it to the principal, "I don't know why, but he's been bugging me for the past couple of days. He tore this. It's the only picture we have."

Resting the glasses on the top of her head like a crown. She sharply exhaled and took the photograph for herself, evaluating it like she did everything,

"Is this your mother?" She asked

The twins nodded in sync.

"Pretty lady. You guys look like her. Is she…?"

The feeling of asking whether someone was alive or not was asked so often that you just knew when it was coming. As a strange way of respect, it was implied instead of being asked directly. Naturally, feeling it arrive, the twins shook their heads in sync again and Ariel laughed as a nervous reaction. The principal handed the photograph back to them and Ariel grabbed it, looking at it one last time before passing it over to Caleb.

"Well, I'm sorry about that. I hope suspending him until further notice is enough?" Crickets might as well have started, because the twins believed otherwise—a pit of fire would've been fair, "Like I said, I'm willing to give you both one more chance to do well in those classes. Besides I can tell your mother raised you well…" She said looking directly at Caleb. She then steered her gaze to Ariel, "I'm not really sure about you."

Caleb laughed by giving an ugly snort feeling slightly euphoric at the fact that someone agreed with him. Ariel, fairly insulted, darted a glare at him. Quickly, Caleb fell silent.

* * *

After their meeting with the principal, it was like something in Ariel instantly clicked. He called off meetups with the bad crowd of people he use to call friends, he attended all of his courses, and attempted reassembling the brotherly relationship with Caleb. If there was anything Caleb knew he had over Ariel, it was intelligence (with a side of common sense). He knew the principal played some reverse psychology on Ariel by mentioning their mom—like some jedi mind trick.

Being a twin had its perks, and one of them as being able to understand and empathize with what the other twin was mentally experiencing. No, it wasn't 'twin telepathy' or crap like that; it was something completely different and beyond explanation. It was a weird feeling Caleb got in his gut when he would see Ariel walking to class and actually talking to him about responsibilities and future goals. It was evident that the supposed 'bad' twin was trying his hardest to redeem himself to his mother. Even if she was no longer around, he was supposed to be an example of something she left in the world…an embodiment of something pleasant, not rotten. Caleb just knew.

But bad habits are hard to break, especially when you've been doing them for nearly three semesters. It wasn't exactly the definition of relapsing to Ariel, but Caleb could beg to differ for what their future held. Caleb use to have a difficult time waking up as a result of having worrisome nights, constantly thinking about the whereabouts and well-being of his lawless brother. Since Ariel got his act together, those nights halted.

It was approximately 0500 hours, and military prep began in the next hour or so. Until the reveille began to sound throughout the hallway speakers, the twins lifelessly laid on their beds with their usual attire,

"Hey," Ariel said, suddenly turning his head over to look at Caleb, "Wanna see something cool?"

Caleb turned away from the wall as well. He was hoping to at least catch up on an hour nap,

"What?" Caleb muttered, face slightly buried in his pillow

"I snuck out and found this really cool place yesterday. I think you'll like it."

Caleb laid silent, and slowly opened his eyes to a full alert. He delivered Ariel a glare so empty, even he didn't know how he was feeling,

"What?" Ariel said.

"You're sneaking out again."

"No! No!" He calmly said, "It's not like that. I did this for you."

"How the hell—that makes no sense!"

"Look, shut up and just follow me okay?" He said, sitting up at getting out of bed.

"Ariel!" Caleb sharply whispered while sitting up, "Remember what the principal said! If you walk out that damn door, I am _never_ speaking to you again!"

Ariel scoffed so carelessly, that it brought Caleb to question the loyalty he had with his brother; and right after the effortless exchange, Ariel grabbed his backpack and exited the dorm. Caleb quickly tossed on his sneakers, grabbed his belongings and walked to the opened door. He poked his head out into the hallway. Looking up and down the hall, he saw Ariel's figure disappear at one end of the hall, and a soldier patrolling the other. Caleb was so well concealed that the soldier at the other end didn't noticed him. When Caleb saw the opportunity to enter the halls, he silently closed the door behind him and beamed in Ariel's direction.

Turning a corner just before he could be spotted by any of the instructors, he was spooked by an identical face,

"Bah!" Ariel roared, following up with an ugly snort.

Caleb playfully slapped his brother on the head and peered around the corner of the hall: The soldier patrolling the hall turned on his flashlight and shined down the end of the hall and immediately began walking towards the twins direction,

"Shit!" Caleb pushed Ariel from behind.

Ariel began giggling as he transitioned into a full out sprint, having Caleb follow him to a sectioned off doorway that led to the back staircases.


	22. Chapter 21 - Downtown

Although Caleb never did it before, the jailbreak from military school was the fattest thrill he had ever experienced in his life. Sneaking through hallways, distracting security—he was too ashamed to admit it, but he got the idea why Ariel and his stupid friends did it; they just lacked self-control. But in a world where there was hardly any control left? It made sense.

Ariel knew the exact route that led a part of the school that was off limits. A couple of years ago, there was a gas leak that no one knew about, and then boom—the back of the school was up in flames. Without the proper funding from the government that "cared so much", it never got fixed. All that remained was caution tape and a hole in the wall with a large plank of wood drilled over it.

As Ariel lifted the caution tape and went ahead, Caleb constantly looked back. He was in mixed hopes of getting caught just so he could snitch and Ariel would learn his lesson.

"This is taking too long. Let's go back," Caleb demanded.

"Oh, relax!" Ariel whispered, "We're here. Just keep a look out," Ariel reached the wall and felt up the bolted down corners of the plywood, "Man, these sons of bitches are always quick to shut this shit back up," he swore.

"What are you talking about?" Caleb asked, remaining alert.

Ariel didn't answer, but Ariel was talking about whoever was responsible for keeping this place on lockdown. It was rarely guarded, and it was a path that Ariel and his friends would always use to sneak out, but no matter how many times his friends managed to get the plywood off, it would always be drilled back shut with a new fresh set of plywood the next day. Looks like they got around to it early this time.

Ariel backed out the corridor to where his brother was standing with his tail between his legs. Still within the boundaries of the off-limit area, he walked up to an old, metal office door and peeked through its small rectangular window. The room was already becoming filled with sunlight from the dawning skies; this was the best time for Ariel to get Caleb to see what he wanted to show him. Ariel ran back to the plywood, where he set his backpack down, and pulled out a brick,

"So, you just carry a brick around with you?" Caleb asked, just to start conversation.

"Yeah?" Ariel answered. It sounded like Ariel was begging for an explanation on why it would be a good idea to _not_ ever carry one around, "Have you seen the Infected out there?"

"Let me think? No."

"Oh, that's right, because you're a pussy."

"Hm," Caleb considered, "If being smart makes me a pussy, I wonder what that makes you?"

"Shut up…" Ariel groaned.

Caleb did what he was told—not out of respect, but out of fear that someone would hear their surge of bickering.

Ariel began to deliver blows to the each of the bolts, causing a repetition of bangs. Like a high striker game at a carnival, each bang raised Caleb's anxiety, and it was a matter of time before his bell was almost hit. The brick, that started off so perfect and rectangular, was now battered and asymmetric. Ariel wiped the sweat off his forehead and gave one last bang to the final bolt on the bottom right. As the bolt loosened, the plywood did as well, swinging down and hitting the floor. Ariel leapt up and flew to the side before the plywood could hit him in his hard head.

"Come on," Ariel said, successfully removing the plywood and putting it towards the outside.

Caleb ran down the hall and followed Ariel to the outside. The entire school was barricaded by a cross wire fence, but this particular area had been snipped with a pair of wire clippers, presumably by one of Ariel's friends. Caleb followed his troublesome brother through the opening of the fence and up a grassy slope. The more Caleb walked, he was eventually led to a small plain of wheats. The wheat fields waved as the breezes danced through them. Caleb couldn't believe he was saying this to himself, but Ariel was right. Since it was still ante meridiem, the dawning sun glared just above the buildings in the quarantine zone. The sunlight acted like glitter, illuminating the golden beige tinges in the plants. Barely able to speak, Caleb let out a chilling breath, feeling as if he could reach the heavens on this small hill. There was something dazzling and tranquil about it.

"What do you think?" Ariel asked.

Caleb suddenly turned around, being reminded that he wasn't the only being in the entire universe. Ariel brought his arms out from his sides and fell backwards, disappearing in a tall bed of wheats.

* * *

Ever since the twins started walking the halls together, they would normally receive several peculiar stares from other students. Twins have always existed...yes—but in these hallways? That's a different story.

Caleb was your typical goody-good. He went to all his classes (including his brother's from time to time) and was never seen with another guy who looked like him. Even Ariel's friends were a little freaked out by it. Reason why? Caleb recalled almost every single one of them approaching him, assuming he was Ariel. Despite the fact that Ariel had French braidable hair, no one paid attention to details like that.

There was something unsettling about having a dorm to yourself. Other's usually liked the feeling, but it was easy to get lonely. It could've been a different situation for Caleb since he _knew_ his brother was supposed to be sharing the same dorm. But having free time to yourself, after classes were over, could end up really depressing when you were alone. Caleb wasn't exactly the sociable type, and overhearing conversations from the students gathering in the dorm next door could make him a little envious. There wasn't much one could do outside of their dormitories during free periods. Military school was like a prison and was kept on constant lockdown to prevent kids from going out and stragglers from coming in. Security was strict, and soldiers wouldn't hesitate to knock your head off if you broke the rules; that was another reason why Ariel should be more serious.

* * *

Caleb knocked down all his homework assignments. He would usually be finished relatively quick, but this time it took him a couple of hours. He found himself enjoying his brother's company. Laughing and holding private conversations with on one another the entire day. It was end of the week, and the following day meant no classes, and no classes meant going to bed at whatever fucking time you wanted.

"Yeah okay," Caleb said, "You expect me to believe that you killed a Bloater? All by yourself."

Ariel nodded, straight-faced.

"With what then?" Caleb asked.

"A gun…? What else?"

"And where the hell did you get a gun from?"

"Look, I have my sou—"

Caleb held up his hand to stop Ariel was speaking so loudly after he swore he heard something. Ariel sat on his bed with his eyes widened, thinking that Caleb might have been losing it. He didn't hear a thing,

"What…on...earth..." Ariel started.

"Shh!"

 _Knock. Knock. Knock_ —they had to be the faintest knocks in the world. Standing closest to the door because he was disposing of his sharpener shavings, Caleb was the first to hear it. He reached for the doorknob and cracked open the door. Peeking through the space, Caleb saw a skinny, Filipino-looking dude about his height, dressed in a red sweater and black jeans; with half functional headphones as an accessory. He recognized him as one of Ariel's friends—Trevor, Trenton, some shit like that—and since it was after dark, it rose Caleb's suspicions.

"Ariel?" Trevor/Trenton responded after seeing Caleb's face.

"...Who is that?" Ariel whispered from behind.

Without pulling his attention away from Trevor/Trenton, Caleb discreetly extended his arm and swatted Ariel away like an irritating little fly.

"What do you need..." Caleb responded as he raffled the two names in his head. There was a fifty/fifty chance that he could get this one correct, so he doubted he could mess this up "...Trevor?"

"Caleb! Who's that?" Ariel asked again, this time, standing to get a better glance at who was behind the door.

"Nice try, Caleb. Let me talk to Ariel."

"He can't talk, he's busy…"

"Man! He ain't busy, I can see him right there!"

Eventually shifting all his weight to his hip and resting it on the door, Caleb struggled to push the door back without getting too volatile. Letting the door swing open, Ariel's friend barged in,

"Oh, hey Reese," Ariel casually answered.

Caleb judged himself in silence and shook his head when no one was looking. _Reese?_ He thought to himself.

Reese walked in and closed the door behind him like barging, uninvited, into people's dorms were a normal practice. Reese looked wild-eyed and it took a moment before he started rambling indistinct words at the sight of his comrade. The twins were watching him like some sort of fanatic, and Caleb was about five seconds away from wrestling him out,

"Reese, we've been over this plenty of times. Use your words," Ariel said, trying to remain calm.

"W-we found them!" Reese spat out, a little improved on slowing down his speech.

"Found who?"

"T-the Fireflies, bro!" Reese showed a full mouth of pearly whites, "We found them!"

Unlike Ariel, who stood erect in sheer amazement, Caleb fell weak at his ankles and sat down onto his bed. He knew exactly what this was leading to and he looked up at Reese and his brother. He felt helpless. It was like watching two conspirators discuss some devious plan that you had nothing to do with, but now that you're a witness, you have just as much involvement.

"What!? How'd…!?" Ariel was almost speechless. He placed his digits along his temples and brought himself together, " _Where_ did you find them?"

"So, the girls and I were planning to meet up with Saul and sneak into that museum tonight—"

"The Boston Museum?" Ariel interrupted. Reese paused and gave a nod, "Why would you guys go there without me? Wasn't I the one who told you about that place?"

"Okay, look, focus. I'm here now aren't I?" Ariel nodded with an eyeroll, signifying that it didn't mean he was forgiven, "Any who, Saul didn't wait for us at the museum. He ran into us and started going all crazy; talking about how he was waiting outside when he heard a group of people talking. He thought it was us at first, but it wasn't—it was Marlene and some of her goons. Saul got up and hid inside for about thirty minutes until they left," Reese enjoyed how intrigued Ariel was, "This is our chance, man! I've heard so many stories about how the Fireflies recruit military students. We can stow away with the Fireflies and be out this shitty dictatorship. _Just_ like my sister."

"Oh, man! I'll meet you guys by the spot," Ariel said like an in-love fangirl.

"You're so stupid you know that?" Caleb said shaking his head, "You think you guys can just go up to some Fireflies, express your obsession for them, and just expect them to accept you like that?"

"Shut up, Caleb..." Reese groaned, sounding fed up.

"I'm not even talking to you. I could care less about what happens to your dumb ass,"

"Man-!"

"Hey!" Ariel shouted, annoyed by the disrespect that was being tossed around in his presence, "Reese, go wait with the rest of them, I'll meet up with you."

Once Reese exited the room, Ariel looked at Caleb with slight disappointment in his eyes, however, he was disappointed in himself. With his mind already made up, he turned around to grab his belongings, predicting that his brother would come on with a full barrage of lectures,

"Don't you think this is too dangerous? The Fireflies aren't some group of scouts you know? They're an actual militia with actual guns. Guns that can shoot you and kill you! Ariel, listen to me!"

At this point, Ariel had his things ready and pulled out a handgun from his back pocket. Checking to see if it was fully loaded, Caleb was stunned by the fact that he even had one without his knowledge. He remembered Ariel's stories, but never actually believed it.

"Ariel…" Caleb said as if it were his last breath, "Every...time you step foot out there my heart falls into my gut. I have no clue if you'll ever be coming back. Do you know how many times I've locked myself in the bathroom stall? Crying? Praying that you're still alive? God, are you even listening to me!? You're the only family I have left!"

Ariel sighed,

"Listen to me, okay?" He said, sounding sincere and apologetic. He made sure that he did because he truly felt like he was betraying his brother, "I know what I'm doing is risky, but I need a way out of this system...and this place. I hate everything about it; how it operates, how it took mom from us? Mom died because the zone didn't want to put a gun in her hand, and she died because we didn't know how to protect her at the time. Understand? She hid us from the government and when the military found out she had two boys left, they scooped us up and threw us right in this crappy school without our permission. Don't even say I don't have a right to feel this way, because I know you feel that way too. Plus, we're gonna run out of rations soon; we always do for a good month and the wait gets longer and longer. This life…" he gave an exhausted chuckle, "This life is tiring, silly, and it's bullshit. I want to be a part of something bigger...where people are going to remember who I am," telling by the look on Caleb's face Ariel assumed he was getting through to his patronizing brother. He continued, hoping to make a point, "Remember Mr. Joules? The really nice soldier who guarded the entrance all morning and afternoon and always spoke to us during our freshman year?"

"Yeah. He would always ask about you when you started ditching classes…"

"Yeah…" Ariel said, briefly falling off track at the longer thought of him. He resumed, "Well, do you remember his funeral?"

"...No"

"Exactly. Because the military didn't give him one. He was expendable. That's all they're teaching us to be—tools until we don't work anymore. It was a lot different before all this; it's not the same anymore. When Joules died, they replaced him with a fresh-faced douche bag and never even told his family. I don't want that...and you shouldn't either," he paused, "So I'm placing my faith in the Fireflies because it's the only choice I've got...alright? I'm losing my options and faith here. Trust me, I'm not just doing it for myself. I'm doing it for you too,"

After a long pause, Caleb replied.

"Okay..." Caleb said giving a thick swallow. The bags under his eyes felt heavier, "I admit. It's bad here. I don't like it either, but how do you know The Fireflies aren't any different?"

"Stories. Reese's sister—she got recruited when she was, like, fifteen."

Caleb was afraid to ask, but he shot anyway,

"Is she still alive?"

"Yeah. She just stopped showing up to keep a low profile. Rumors started spreading—she writes though.

"Isn't that illegal."

"See? Rules," Ariel sighed, "They've already got you thinking like them—would you care about that if _I_ were writing to you?"

"...Probably not."

"How about this? Come along. If you don't like it, you can come right back. Hell, we'll be on opposite sides, but that'll be pretty cool."

Caleb didn't give an answer. He just stood there and pondered on how two people, who have identical DNA, could be so different. It went without question that Caleb had his mother's traits and Ariel presumably had their father's—a man they never got the opportunity to meet.

* * *

Caleb gave in, packed his bag with a few things, and joined in on the journey with his brother—the only person that made him weak-minded as of recently. He, Ariel, and Reese were quietly making their way through the corridors, maneuvering between classrooms, hiding in stair cases from security. Exhausting. Making it to the lower level, with Reese leading the way, Caleb was brought back to the place that was marked off limits and sealed with plywood. They ran into a group of Caleb's friends: Two girls and a _very_ (not an exaggeration) mature looking boy, presumably a senior.

A fair skinned girl with dark hair, tied in a bun, was introduced as Sheila. She wasn't exactly pretty, but average looking with dark brown eyes, narrow features, and a scar on her right cheek. She wore a purple and grey hoody with baggy capris. The same girl with dreadlocks, that Caleb previously met, was introduced as Zee. She kept her locks in a ponytail, wore a burgundy jacket and some jeans with small rips around the knee and thighs. The only thing different about her this time was her black eyeliner. The notorious Saul was the tallest, palest guy of all; with cracked glasses, a worn out, knit grey sweater with heavy lint pills, jeans, and a beanie. Caleb was a little standoffish, to which Ariel reassured the others that Caleb was only hungry.

"Alright, everyone locked and loaded?" Saul asked, pulling out a handgun from his back pocket and checking his magazine rounds, "Eleven."

"That isn't fair, you just went and scavenged without us," Reese said, "Five," he continued.

"Eight," Zee answered.

"Five," Sheila responded afterward.

"Seven," Ariel answered lastly.

All of Ariel's friends looked up at Caleb, who struggled with the proper response. He gulped before speaking,

"I-I don't have a gun."

"...Well don't expect any of us to waste our bullets on you?" Saul said, careless if it came across offensive or not.

"Neato," Caleb sarcastically remarked.

"It's alright, guys," Ariel said, stepping through the cluster of his friends and placing his palm on his brother's shoulder, "I dragged him along. I'll watch after him. No one should waste their bullets 'cept me."

Ariel looked over at Caleb like he was the most embarrassed he had been in his entire life. But if Ariel expected differently from his brother, he was dumber than Caleb thought.

With some hesitation and slight unease, the group snuck out of the building, into the hills, and across the wheat field. Caleb purposely lagged behind, noticing that the wheat field was no longer the same as it was in the early mornings.

Caleb picked up his pace after he was told four or five times to do so by everyone in the party. The further Caleb was taken from his school, the more uncomfortable he grew. Although, he had never been past the Boston Quarantine Zone, he knew that these parts of the city were completely off limits to anyone from the zone or not. Anyone caught in this area would be better off dead if it were by military. In the past, the city was bombed out as a precaution to avoid the multiplication of rabid infected; so right in the center of the city was a huge crater that looked freakin' nuclear. You could tell the explosion ate up anything from buildings, to trees, to cars—leaving structures half decimated.

After sneaking through the half-exposed sewers, the group finally reached the city, where Caleb took in his first look of the city's ruins. There was nothing beautiful about it. Not a touch of sunlight or a dose of civilians could bring the area to life. He stood there, in a daze almost, getting slammed by the harshness of reality.

There was a thin long block of debris that belonged to one of the fallen buildings in the area, or probably the one that towered in front of them. The debris was so large that it looked similar to a column with clumps missing from the bottom. It was tightly wedged in between a separated space and provided itself as a bridge to cross over to another building.

Caleb was the first to go. Before crossing, he looked down from where he stood and noticed that the drop was about a good twenty feet. Wouldn't kill you, but it would be a painful landing,

"Agh!" Saul whined, "What's taking so long?"

"A-are you sure this is safe?" Caleb asked.

"C'mon, we've crossed this thing, like, a million times," Saul turned to look at Ariel who was beside him, "Look, no offense Ariel but you brother is really slowing us down."

"I'm sure you weren't quite the explorer the first time you stepped out of the zone, Saul," Ariel defended.

Saul turned around with a groan, not denying whether that was true or not. Eventually Reese shoved past Caleb and walked across, the thin column. He stopped in the middle with his arms spread out and turned to face his group of friends,

"See? Nothing."

He jumped up and down, ran in place, and even did jumping jacks. His company watched him oddly as he acted like a goofball above the twenty feet drop. Meanwhile Ariel and Saul shook their heads at one another, Zee and Sheila were clenching each other's hands in fear that he'd fall off. And as Reese continued to act like a jerk, his foot slipped and fell. He yelled as most of his torso remained on the column and his left leg dangled off the sides,

"AHHHH! HELPPP! OH, MY GODDDD," he shrieked, "MY ANKLE! SHIT!" The girls and boys began panicking and yelling alongside him, but that's when Reese quickly picked himself back up with ease, dusted himself off and walked to the other side. He dropped down on the other end and gave a bow, "Thank you ladies and gentlemen. Save your roses,"

Zee was the next to cross and once she made it to the other side she punched Reese in his ribs and gave him pinches he tried to avoid. They were clearly involved with one another romantically. But Caleb didn't care—it was just him and Ariel remaining at this point.

"I didn't think you'd be like this…" Ariel said. He gave a deep sigh and looked over at his friends who looked like they were prepared to leave him, "If you want, I can take you back to the school…"

"Really?" Caleb asked.

Ariel gave a subtle nod, but there was some pride in Caleb that didn't allow him to confirm that. Plus, letting his brother down was something he didn't want to do. Ariel may have relapsed his bad habits, but that meant rarely seeing his brother again. So, if this meant a chance to do _anything_ together, he'd do it. He turned the situation around and shook his head,

"N-no. No, it's fine…" Caleb said, not wanting to disappoint his brother, but especially himself.

As Caleb slowly approached the column, his heart began to pound. He never realized it before, but heights got him incredibly dizzy and nauseous: An unpredicted case of altophobia. No amount of breathing exercises could calm him at this point, so he said screw it and took the first step. Frankly, the column was short to the point where one step already brought him to one-third of the bridge. Just two more steps and he was already over. While his arms were out to his sides, he visibly trembled; his legs most of all,

"It's alright...you got it…" Reese supported from the other end.

With just two long stretches, Caleb made it to the other side and met soft, scattered applauses from Ariel's friends. Caleb smirked as Ariel dropped right behind him and patted his brother on the shoulder.

Even if it was a moment to cherish, it was immediately cut short by everyone else. Handguns came out and stealth was activated. Saul mentioned that this area was _swarmed_ with infected, so staying hidden and staying cautious was key if you wanted to survive. Caleb felt that—knew that statement was directed towards him.

* * *

To make things more interesting, travels usually consisted of some type of twist and twirl. The main roads were practically non-existent considering its decimation from the explosion. After crossing the small bridge, the group of teenagers followed Saul to a building with a voluminous hole in the side—a hole that looked like it was chomped through by gigantic fangs. You could look up and see about five exposed floors of the building. All the teens got their flashlights ready and peered through to the untidy insides, from the outside. Like every place uninhabited by humans, the walls were decorated with drapes of bright green vines and white flora. The rest of the vines that grew on eternally would curl in around the edges of the hole and venture on into its own network.

There was a clutter of office chairs which seemed to had roll down from the uneven floors of the leaning building. Although it was just paranoia, the building felt like it teetered from the slightest step.

Saul led the way; passing through a caved-in part of the floor. It led into the basement. The interior was completely dark and the only way to see around was by the use of their flashlights.

"Whatever you do, don't move," Zee said, cautiously watching her surroundings, including her every step, "I could swear I heard a—"

" _Grooooak_!"

Everyone scattered like roaches with the lights on, and went into hiding. Ariel, Sheila and Saul looked over the massive counter they hid behind. The Clicker casually strolled past the doorway, holding its plated head and twitching in complete torture. It would then carry on, clicking down the corridor.

The group of friends remained crouched but huddled together by the order of Saul. They rounded up by the doorway, and even though it was too soon to do a headcount, Ariel realized that Caleb was no longer with them. Ariel halted the conversation,

"Wait, wait, wait!" he said softly, only to gather everyone's attention, "Wait! Where's Caleb?"

Everyone looked around. There were two exits in the entire room. The exit in the front was a doorway that led through the corridor to a way out through the back of the building. The second exit was just a random hole in the back of the room that led to god-knows-where,

"Dammit, Ariel! We're never going to get there in time if you're brother keeps fucking up!" Saul strongly expressed.

"Well fucking go, then. I'll meet you guys there."

"This could've been avoided y'know. You're bother isn't…" they all paused in fright from the sound of some echoing clatters in the hall. Saul lowered his voice as a precaution, "He isn't going to join the Fireflies anyway."

"I'm beginning to rethink even coming at all…" Ariel snubbed, referring to Saul's bickering.

"Look..." Sheila, said intervening in the nonsense. She pointed at the massive hole in the back of the room, "He obviously went through there, okay? There's too many of us anyway. I'll go with Ariel and we'll just meet you guys back at the museum. Ariel knows the way, right?" She looked at him and he responded with a nod, "Okay then."

* * *

Caleb was struck with fear so unbearable he fled without much thought. Although he learned that the Infected were unbothered by flashlights, he still turned his own off. He was in a separate dark room with thick walls. His ears and shoes picked up on deep puddles and skittish rats. Foolishly, he ventured backwards. All he could hear in the dead quiet room was the heavy pants of his own breath. He glanced down at something small his foot kicked (an old television?), and saw it as something he could probably hide behind. He crouched and felt a swarm of buzzing flies hit him like upward droplets. In that moment, Caleb picked up a stench so foul he couldn't hold back his coughing. He turned on his flashlight and looked over beside him to see a rotting corpse. He shrieked and crawled away, trying tremendously hard to avoid crying.

Breaking down into a silent weep, Caleb paused to the sound of one that was slightly louder than his. Looking up, he heard the silent whines coming from his left. His bottom lip trembled, and he swallowed hard. He looked over and saw the one thing he was trying to avoid in the first place—an Infected. This one was a Runner. The Runner and he made eye contact at the exact same moment. Caleb was so petrified he couldn't move a muscle. That's when a pair of extra footsteps came in from the right side of the room,

"Caleb?" Ariel called out, seeing his brother in such a vulnerable position.

Once Caleb turned to see Sheila's and Ariel's nervous faces, the Runner pounced and yelled. Tossing Caleb to the ground, the Runner uncontrollably swung blows at Caleb. He grunted and yelled, using his forearms to avoid every blow. The Runner got a few lucky shots, having the potential to break Caleb's neck if given the full advantage. Ariel and Sheila wasted no time dashing in to help. Ariel gave a strong kick to the Runner's side, hoping to fracture a couple of bones. The Runner toppled to the side and quickly regained its stance. Ariel pinned it against a wall while Sheila quickly loaded up her gun with a fresh batch of bullets,

"Sheila!" Ariel strained to hold the powerful Runner, "Hurry!"

Sheila loaded the gun a little too late, and the Runner got the upper hand. Ariel was thrown back far enough to break from the Runner's attention span, making Sheila his next target. It's blow at her knocked the pistol out of her hand. Sheila, usually noted of her swiftness by her friends, dodged the blows from the Runner by quickly straying backwards. She painfully ran her side into a wooden table, knocking over a thick liquor bottle probably filled with piss. Grabbing it, she swung a devastating blow at the Runner's face. The hit was like an explosion, having shards bounce every which way. The bottle broke, leaving Sheila with the bottle's neck and a piercing end. She drove the sharp end in the faltering Runner's eye, watching it squirm and scream in pain. It walked backwards, touching its face in distraught.

"My gun!" Sheila shouted, wildly looking around with nothing but her flashlight to aid her.

The Runner was randomly shot three times from the side. One in its arm, another in the side of its face, and a third in its stomach. The Runner fell to the ground and Sheila looked over to see Caleb equipped with her gun. Frozen for a few seconds, like he was attempting to hold up a strong weight, he finally let his arms down and let out a strong exhale. He looked down at the gun in his hand and wiped his bloody lip with his other hand. He could feel his own blood seeping into the corners of his mouth. Ariel limped in from behind and snatched the gun from Caleb,

"You didn't have to do that y'know," he said, sounding unhappy. He handed the gun over to Sheila, "I owe you three bullets...don't worry about it."

"Sorry…" Caleb apologized to Sheila, regarding her bullets.

"I-It's fine. Thanks for that."

"What were you thinking? Just wandering off like that?" Ariel asked with his arms crossed, "You're sixteen. Not five."

Sheila came in and rested her palm on Ariel's shoulder,

"Ariel. Please," she said catching her breath, "Not now. Just...cut him a break, okay? He was scared."

"I was just worried okay?" Ariel said.

"Yeah…" Caleb nodded while staring at ground and briefly into Ariel's eyes, "Now you know how it feels…" Caleb said.

If there was any time to process what Caleb just said, they could've turned back and headed home, but Sheila pointed out that the gunshots just might have alerted the other Infected in the area. For their safety, they got themselves together and returned to where they broke apart from their other friends. They sneaked into the corridor that was being circled by two Clickers.

The path on their left, that cut into another hall, was closest to the exit. But standing there were two Clickers. One of the Clickers stood in place, meanwhile the other walked up and down the hall. Once they spotted the second Clicker walking towards their path, the teens had no other choice but to sneak around the opposite direction. It would take longer, but the other path led to the same exit. As they chose to scurry around the corner to their right, there was just one more left before making it to the exit. Resting just beside the end of the hall, Ariel peered out from the corner to see the emergency exit just a couple of feet away. Something so primitive like a rusted exit felt like the pearl white gates of heaven.

"...Uh, Ariel," Sheila said.

Ariel turned back up to see small specks of rubble raining down on Sheila and Caleb's head. They all looked up, see the ceiling begin to fall apart. A large fragment of stone, brick, and cement dropped from above, causing the three teens to jump apart. It slammed down on the ground, causing a large disruption. Both Clicker's screamed from their positions, echoing down the halls. As Ariel looked up, he spotted the Clicker closest to the exit coming down his path. Sheila hid behind Caleb and heard a shriek come from behind her as well. She pulled out her pistol, and fired shots at the Clicker, which barely did anything. After two loud pops, her pistol made a lifeless click.

"Shit. Ariel, let's go!" she shouted.

Ariel took out his pistol and fired two perfect shots at the Clicker in front of him. The Clicker fell to the ground, leaving the last Clicker to stagger behind the trio. As Ariel took off, so did Sheila, having the Infected miss chomping her by inches. As they proceeded to sprint down the hall, rumbles and shakes like an earthquake began to occur. A massive cave in of the basement began to happen, crushing the Clicker to death. Caleb let out a shout of fear that couldn't be contained, unsure if it meant life or death for him and his brother. Once they all reached the exit, all three of their body weight flung the massive door open, tossing them outside. They toppled over one another as a cloud of smoke and debris follow them to the outside. All three of them laid on the ground, exhausted and fatigued. Two figures slowly approached them,

"We thought you guys were dead," Reese said, helping up Caleb.

"We're fine…" Sheila groaned, picking herself up. She spotted Saul, carelessly leaning on a rock with a fresh cigarette in his mouth. She snatched it from him, placed it in her own, and began to inhale, "Caleb saved me back there."

"Did he?" Saul asked in surprise, "Might as well. He's the one that got us into this mess."

"Saul, remember the first time you saw a Clicker on the road and drove us into that ditch?" Saul didn't answer, "We were in a car for Christ's sakes and you still almost got us killed. So, save it." Sheila defended.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"All I'm saying is that if you could be scared of an Infected while in a car going seventy miles per hour, then you shouldn't really point fingers for someone who was exposed, ran off, and _still_ managed to save us. I got a broken ankle from your shitty driving and we couldn't even go to the medic because you wanted to keep your stupid missions 'discreet'," she exhaled a cloud of smoke and stomped out the cigarette, "I swear, this trip better be worth it, because after this, I'm fucking finished."

Everyone else got quiet. That's when others began to speak up,

"Look, he was scared, okay?" Ariel added, "Stop acting like you're tougher than everyone just because you've been held back a couple of times and saw it all."

Saul furrowed his eyebrows and began to turn red,

"I don't think it's fair that everyone keeps picking on me!"

"C'mon, Saul…" Zee said, apparently drowsy, "We didn't expect all this to happen and we're really tired. We're doing this for you, we're okay, now let's just get to the museum alright?"

"Fine, let's go," Saul said.

The group rested for a couple of minutes. They each grabbed a bite of packed away cheese & bologna sandwiches and shared two canteens of water. Once they were prepared, they got themselves together and walked up the mountains of rubble that merged with what was left of the back roads.


	23. Chapter 22 - Boston Museum

It was already past midnight by the time the party of teens had reached their destination. During this time of the starry night, the brick buildings looked violet with patches of vibrant green and earthy brown moss. It was oddly pleasing to the eye—at least Caleb's. He stared at the museum building, wondering what mysteries it held inside. Again, the curiosity of what it looked like in the past had multiple images in his eyes. He was even fascinated by the mere appearance of having a brick building stand without legs. Without the knowledge of how these buildings were built, it was like magic.

There were about five bodies of Infected lying about. The infamous Saul stated that when he visited there earlier, he took them all out on his own—something no one believed. As a matter of fact, Reese and Zee tried not to piss themselves after a little gossip. It wasn't apparent until now, but Saul was beginning to realize the joke he was becoming ever since Caleb was around. He couldn't understand it or make sense of it, but he was beginning to resent Ariel for bringing along his punk of a brother. Ultimately, he had disdain for Caleb as well.

"Okay…" Sheila said, resting her hands on her hips, "We're here. Where are they?"

"They're inside…" Saul hesitated to answer.

Sheila's eyes followed him as he looked away and aimlessly sauntered away from her,

"You don't know, do you?"

"Well…" Saul hesitated again, "It's been hours since I was last here. They could very well be gone by now!"

"Fuck…" Ariel groaned.

"What?!" Saul shrugged, "Don't act like this wasn't a risk we weren't willing to take. I didn't bring you guys out here for no reason. We'll find them. Just try and keep your voices down. If they aren't around, we'll just try again next time."

Entering the lobby of the museum, the main path that continued to the upper levels had been blocked off by a sudden cave-in that Saul claimed wasn't there when he was initially there. Although it wasn't his day, Saul was remaining surprisingly calm. His friends already kept playing the blame game, so he didn't want to feed into it. Meanwhile the other four congregated, Reese and Zee were separate from the group. They remaiined outside of the building, carelessly flirting with one another. Reese would wrap his arms around her waist and tickle Zee's neck with his nose. With her arms rested on his shoulders, she'd giggle and squeeze his ass—a little odd, but they were comfortable around each other.

"Wait..." Zee suddenly said. She rested her hand on Reese's chest and froze while she peered over his shoulder.

Reese smiled,

"What? Since when are you embarrassed around them?"

"No, it's not that, I could've sworn I saw something…" Zee said, releasing him and slipping out of his arms.

Surrounded by buildings, she walked out into the center of a small street that branched out into different pathways. To make matters worse, there was a lot of noise coming from the inside of the museum—a result of the other four trying to find their way into the museum. Zee reached into her back pocket and pulled out her gun. She warned Reese of her suspicions and told him to run and tell the others to settle down on the noise. Not wanting to leave her side, Reese struggled with leaving her alone but did as he was told.

With soft moans echoing from every opening, Zee couldn't pinpoint where they were coming from. She started to breath heavy and her hands trembled. Without Caleb around, Zee definitely fell last in terms of being a capable survivor. She knew this, but never wanted to acknowledge being the weak link. She could be a bit vain sometimes, but it was something she was working on. It wasn't until recently, that she learned how to properly reload and shoot a gun by her friends, so she had faith in herself. Shortly, Reese came running back with his handgun out as well,

"Are you alright?" He asked, placing his back up against hers.

"I don't know what I'm…" Zee paused.

She spotted two Runners reveal themselves from the corner of a building. They climbed over and through the toppled cars and breathed loudly as they beamed towards Zee. She was frozen with fear, but saw the Runner get shot to the ground in front of her. She looked over her shoulder and noticed the tip of Reese's gun smoking. Following up to make sure she wasn't hurt, Reese pushed Zee out of the way before the second Runner could get to close to her. Reese was tossed to the ground, and the Runner went berserk while on top of him. Zee grabbed her gun and fired three shots at it. Reese pushed the Runner's body off him with Zee's aid. He looked down at the blood that marked his hands and clothes,

"You okay?" Reese asked, unaware that his face was bleeding from a scrape.

From behind, the rest of the group ran out panicked, telling one another that there seemed to be no way through the museum. To some, this meant to stick it out through the end, but to others, it meant no chance of survival.

The moans and yells continued to grow louder thanks to the gunshots. Runners were heard shouting in the distance. The group banded together with their backs all faced to one another. Sheila was out of bullets and Caleb was unarmed, but Sheila stood more of a chance. A Runner emerged right out of a building and darted towards Saul.

"Saul!" Caleb called out.

Saul braced himself and fired a sharp shot at the Runner's head. Eventually they started to come in waves, causing everyone to use their ammo to the point where Saul and Reese were the only ones left with a few. That's when every one of the teens realized that this wave was much worse than the next—the screams, the croaks and moans. Blended in with the noise, a coherent voice stuck out

"HEY! OVER HERE!"

Caleb's eye wandered everywhere as the calls eventually caught everyone by surprise. Caleb turned to face the opposite direction and took a couple of steps forward, shocked at what he was seeing,

"Look..." Caleb said, pointing.

He guided everyone's eyes back to the main road beside to the museum. Although the main road was blocked off by dumpsters, cars, and completely obstructed by an 18-wheeler, the man stood atop the 18-wheeler, waving around both of his arms with a crowbar in one hand.

"COME ON! FOLLOW ME!" the stranger tirelessly warned.

"Wh-!" Zee panicked, looking in both directions "D-do we trust him?!"

Reese fired a gunshot that frightened everyone,

"We don't have much of a choice! You guys go ahead and Saul and I will hold them off before we come after you!"

There wasn't much time for a plan, so the rest of the group went along with Reese's suggestion. Zee hesitated to leave Reese's side, and persisted to stay with him, but as she was roughly pulled by her comrades she left her handgun with Reese so he could have more ammo. She eventually gave in and they all dashed to the 18-wheeler. The stranger pointed down to a spot underneath the truck, showing a small space that they could all squeeze through.

Sheila went down on her palms and knees and crawled through first. Afterward, was Ariel, and as Caleb crouched to be next, he looked back and realized Zee wasn't close by. Her attention was snagged elsewhere, watching Reese fight off Infected that were literally inches from biting him. Although she was too out of range to be heard or do anything, Zee whimpered and shrieked as one nearly jumped at Reese's leg. Caleb surprised her from behind and pulled her by the wrist. Forcefully, he brought her underneath the truck and encouraged her to crawl through to the other side, where hands were reached out to like fish hooks. Finally, Caleb followed and safely made it to the other side, where he met Zee, who was on her knees to look through to the other side. Caleb gathered beside her to try and get a good look at what was occurring on the other end since it was only enough space for two pairs of eyes.

Reese came to a rest, turning around to see that it was now his opportunity to crawl underneath the 18-wheeler. Breathing and sweating tremendously, Reese looked over at Saul, and rested his palm on his shoulder,

"Alright, bro, they aren't coming as heavy as they were before…so, this is our chance. I'm going to crawl through, and when I'm through, you can come after and we'll all pull you in in no time. We've got this, alright?"

Saul kept his handgun pointed and didn't respond, so Reese took it as compliance. Once a few Infected came out, Saul quickly took two of them down with ease. Almost as if he were standing barefoot on something scorching, Saul's feet reacted feverishly. Just as Reese turned to run, Saul turned and sprinted ahead of him, leaving three Runners and a Clicker to chase after them. Reese slowed down and was stunned to see Saul pass by him without even looking back.

Zee and Caleb couldn't believe their eyes. Reese took out the gun and fired a bullet at a Runner that was impossible to miss. As he prepared to shoot the next one, nothing happened—there was no ammo left in Zee's gun.

"NO! REEESE!" Zee shrieked with tears streaming down her face.

As she prepared to crawl through and be of some sort of help to Reese, Saul blocked her view and fought his way through by easily pushing her back. Caleb was so shocked by Saul's actions that he stood up and backed away from him as if he had seen a monster, that haunted every child's dream, for the first time. It was a more monstrous move than any Infected could ever commit. Zee was on her hindquarters and looked up at him,

"What are you doing?! HELP HIM!" Zee screeched as she stomped.

"…Where's Reese?!" Sheila asked nervously.

Saul's eyes reddened and he couldn't even look her in the face. He walked off, sat in a corner, and buried his face into his knees.

"W-what's happening…?" Ariel asked nervously before staring through the space with Zee. Once his eyes saw Reese fighting off the Runners, the Clicker grabbed Reese from behind and bit into his neck. He let out a yell and fell to his knees as the Runners jumped on top of him.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Zee yelled, "REESE! REEE-EEE-EESE!" She continued shrieking.

Meanwhile Ariel grabbed his handgun and attempted to crawl through the truck, the movement of the stranger from atop the truck began to throw the 18-wheeler off balance. Caleb and Sheila ran behind Ariel just in time and pulled him by the leg before a large metal structure from underneath the truck fell and blocked off Ariel's view. Ariel screamed as he was pulled back, watching his close friend be mauled apart by more Infected that poured from the alleys.

It was an odd feeling, but Sheila was the only one who didn't witness what happened to feel their same level of trauma—but knowing Reese didn't make it was something that overwhelmed her.

Zee stood up and marched towards Saul. As he picked his head up and saw her walking his way, Saul towered over her and braced himself for her judgement.

"Why?!" Zee asked him, knowing there was no answer to justify his actions, Zee continued "WHYYY!?"

She proceeded to slap him across the face and the others pounced after her to wear her out. Eventually, her own sadness overpowered her, causing her to fall weak at her knees, allowing her friends to become the only strength she had left. As she closed her eyes and took a long exhale, out came a deep moan of cries and sobs. Her sobs were a long note that died at the end because she could only let out so much pain to catch her breath. Sheila sank to the pavement with her and held Zee's head to her chest. Everyone knew how important Reese and Zee were to each other, and it was a matter of time before something like this could have happened—but this situation was avoidable had Saul not been a selfish douche.

"What happened out there…?" Ariel asked while approaching Saul.

Saul's face grew pale and his mouth became long, like he was mustering up strength to conceal his sadness. He knew he was in the wrong.

"He left him to die…" Caleb spoke for him, "You…!" Caleb attempted to tackle Saul next, but was held back by his twin, "You…You _fucking_ asshole! You left him to _die_! You were supposed to let him through first while you held off the rest…and you tricked him…and let him _die_!"

"IS THAT TRUE?!" Sheila shouted from where she sat with Zee.

Her skin was red and a vein in her forehead bulged. Her eyes also began to water, but a tearful concoction of anger and misery if anything. Getting this type of response from his friends, Saul was too choked up to answer. He didn't want to admit it. He couldn't even believe it himself. Ariel snatched Saul's gun and checked the ammo. There were seven bullets left.

"You…" Ariel pointed to Saul's face, "You had more than enough!"

He closed back the clip and dropped the handgun to Saul's feet, hoping it would go off and shoot him in the foot.

"I-I-I was scared," he said, apprehensively biting his trembling mouth, "I-I was scared."

Reese was one of Ariel's closest friends, and the fact that he was voluntarily left for dead redefined the entire purpose behind their search for the Fireflies. It almost felt meaningless without him.

Caleb turned to look at the stranger with the crowbar, awkwardly stroking his beard while the conversations happened. He appeared to be very analytical of the teens, and Caleb easily picked up on it. Respecting his silence, Caleb thought it was time for it to be broken,

"Who are you?" Caleb asked.

"Just…Just someone who wanted to help. I was up on the second floor of the museum before I saw you guys having a little trouble coming past here. You're all pretty young, so I couldn't just leave you guys out there. It would be against everything I believe in."

"Well, thank you," Sheila boldly intervened, "Really. We appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he replied somberly, "And I'm sorry for your loss."

* * *

There was barely any time to recover after what happened to Reese. No time to mourn. The stranger introduced himself as Kevin. Kevin was kind enough to lead the teens to a passage through the side of the museum—a roll up gate that they all (except Zee) participated in to carefully lift until they were all safely inside. They were all desperate, so they were given no other choice but to follow Kevin without a second thought. Besides, if he tried anything, everyone was on the same page to take him down. With a lot of shoving, and removing barricades, Kevin promised to lead the kids to his sanctuary. They followed him to the second floor of the museum, where everything was in complete disarray. The building was still standing, but parts of the ceilings were caved in and walls were blown through almost like an explosion occurred. There was a lot of crawling and ducking involved to navigate through rooms and around cut-off hallways.

From the looks of the startling mannequins wearing red and blue coats from the early nineteenth century, it was obvious that the museum served as a storyteller of the First World War. There were plenty of artifacts that were missing from glass casings and stands.

Zee stuck to Sheila's side. She was vulnerable and still heavily relied on Sheila's shoulder for support. Once it finally sunk in that Reese was gone, she did as little as make a peep. Saul followed the group at a great distance, and it was probably the right thing to do after what happened.

As usual, Caleb and Ariel remained paired just as they did when they entered life. Walking beside his brother, Ariel looked up and noticed a soft glare coming from a room behind Caleb.

"Uh, you guys keep going, I'll meet you all upstairs," Ariel said to the group before cautiously entering the room.

Kevin's last words were warnings of unpredictable Infected, because they just miraculously appeared most of the time. Taking heed of his advice, Ariel separated from the group and walked to the entrance of the separate room. He stared at a particular glass casing that was old, dusty, cracked, but in far better condition than the others. It was rectangular, and stood on two black pedestals. Cautiously entering, Ariel looked around, seeing other doorways blocked off by collapsed wooden columns from the inside, leaving them with one entrance and exit. Unable to leave his brother behind, Caleb followed him into the room.

"Whaaat are you doing?" Caleb practically sang.

Ariel didn't answer. Instead, Ariel approached the casing and looked closely, seeing a shiny, moderately curved scabbard inside of the case. What seemed like a blade, on the inside, was exposed at the opening. Ariel bent down and read the text that briefly described the object,

"This katana is a jen…die…toe," he paused and read it all together, "A _Gendaitō_ …?"

"A what?"

"I think that's how you pronounce it? It says here, in parenthesis, that _Gendaitō_ is just another word for a modern katana. It was forged between the late 1800's and early 1900's. Although there are ways to identify a _Gendaitō_ katana, it is a magic sword recorded and rumored to be used in every war in Japan dating back to the Feudal Japan era. It was last discovered piercing through the chest of a British soldier in World War I," Ariel finished, searching around for more to read, "I'm guessing that's it."

"Okay," Caleb turned and started to walk off, "Let's go."

Suddenly, a loud shatter was heard and Caleb turned to see his brother breaking through the glass case with a brick. Ariel diligently reached in and grabbed the scabbard, which was a fine wooden material—black and sleek.

"I'm taking this…"

The scabbard was meant to hang from around the waist, but with a small tweak, Ariel could comfortably rest it across his back. Reaching for his pistol in his back pocket, he handed it over to his brother before checking that only four bullets remained,

"Not gonna be needing this anymore."

Caleb just stared at it,

"So, you're a professional ninja now?"

"The proper term is samurai, okay? Just take the gun…so we can both have something to protect ourselves with."

Caleb snatched the gun and placed it in the waistband of his pants, covering it with his shirt. Hearing footsteps creak across the doorway, Caleb cautiously looked back to see Saul walking past. Ignoring whether he was in earshot or not, he continued to talk,

"He shouldn't be with us," Caleb whispered to his brother, "Not after what he did to Reese," he continued as Ariel looked more engaged, "I mean, I know we didn't get along that much b-but...Reese was funny. We spoke sometimes when he was looking for you and stuff."

"Not now, Caleb…" Ariel muttered as he looked away.

"No one deserves that. What about Zee? Why aren't you guys dealing with him? I don't get it."

"You won't understand," Ariel shook his head. He walked out from behind the case stand and strutted towards the exit.

"The hell is there to understand?!" Caleb followed, "He _killed_ Reese."

"Look," Ariel stopped and turned around, resting his thin palm on Caleb's shoulder, "Saul is a survivor like the rest of us. Who's to say that any of us wouldn't have done the same thing."

"Bullshit," Caleb paused, "Bullshit. I know you wouldn't do that. Reese was one of your closest friends."

"You don't know that. We've all done bad things…and if not, it's only a matter of time before you do."

Ariel's eerie words resonated with him somehow. Caleb never did anything he could recall as immoral, but he questioned if this trip was the beginning to a new character. He couldn't describe it, but things seemed to be shifting internally from time he snuck out of the school with his brother. Watching Ariel walk off was like looking into a mirror, and Caleb stared at the katana on a back that might as well have been his.

* * *

The museum was a lot bigger on the inside, and it took a lot of navigating just to reach a set of promised staircases. With the twins out sight and Saul unworthy of their trust, both Sheila and Zee stuck closest to Kevin but even closest to each other. They walked together, arm in arm and while Zee's head rested on Sheila's shoulder. The hair on both of their heads were out since they mysteriously lost their hairbands somewhere in the commotion.

"He's gone…" Zee's moans began picking up, "He's…he's really gone Sheila."

"Shh," Sheila shushed softly.

She ran her fingers through Zee's locks and placed a couple behind her ear. As they turned the hallway, completely unaware of what was on the around the corner, Sheila bumped into Kevin's arm that blocked their path. Looking forward, the girls noticed that the rest of the hallway was blocked off by furniture and a caved in part of the ceiling. It was possible to maneuver through, but it was too dangerous, and one slip up could end up getting you splattered on the exposed parts of the wall. Kevin's plan was to pass through a separate room since there was an emergency exit that led right through to the other side of the blocked off hallway. Right beyond that exit was a pair of staircases that would bring them to the final floor.

Kevin looked back at the girls, only seeing two familiar faces. Although he tried to conceal it, he was clearly bothered that five teenagers would just wander off like a bunch of kindergarteners. If making them hold hands would make the job easier, then so be it,

"We're the hell are your friends?" He whispered to Sheila, "The tall dude with the glasses and those twins?" Sheila couldn't answer. Frankly, she was too annoyed to. Kevin continued, "If they're not back in the next ten minutes or so, we're leaving without them, understand? Now isn't the time for this shit."

As much as Sheila would've loved to tell Kevin to kiss her ass and that they didn't need his help, she held it in and obediently nodded—because she would be lying to herself and letting Zee down. Right now, Zee was in a liable position and she made it her personal responsibility to get Zee back to school in one whole piece. She felt that it was least she could do for Reese.

* * *

"Before we pass, I have to ask you guys a critical question: What were you guys doing around here?" Kevin asked during a depressing moment of silence, usually accompanied with Zee's sniffles and outburst of whimpers.

Sheila looked at him while resting on a wall across the hall from him,

"We…we were just looking for a place to hang out. Drink. Maybe smoke weed."

"Yeah, but aren't you guys from the Boston Military Academy?" he paused, "I can tell by your sweat shirts. I use to go there when I was younger. They gave them out to just about every student who needed one."

"Yeah," Sheila paused, shifting her overgrown side fringe with a good flick of the head "We're from there, what's that got to do with anything?"

"So…I just think it's a little too strange to come way out here just for some drinks. I mean, you guys managed to survive this long so I don't think you're stupid," he received unsure glances from Sheila, "But I'm not stupid either."

"Fine we wanted to see the museum."

"At midnight?" he inhaled through his teeth, "Try again."

Zee was listening in, declaring this the longest she went without crying. Sheila couldn't come up with anything else.

"I know you probably think I'm some bum who just hides in this place...but I have friends who stay here from time to time, okay? Reason I'm asking is 'cause they aren't all as nice as me. When they see me come in with five random teenagers, I'm gonna have to vouch for you guys somehow. I'd hate for anything to happen to you guys because of dishonesty."

"The Fireflies," Zee blurted.

"Zee!" Sheila whispered sharply.

With her eyes still moist from the recent tears, she lifted her head from Sheila's shoulder and spoke "Saul told us that he knew there were around here. Have you seen them?"

"No. I know they come around here from time to time, but what could you guys want with the Fireflies?"

"We wanted to join them. We thought we could live a good life—if not good, then at least better a one," she looked at the floor, "But with Reese gone, I'm not even sure anymore."

Zee stood inches away from Sheila and resumed to crumble. Sheila reached out and pulled her back to the wall for comfort.

Ironically enough, Saul appeared from the corner a few minutes later; all becoming frightened at the random sight of each other. He looked over at Kevin who was closest to him and then at the girls. Although Zee was too overwhelmed to even notice that he was around, he was too ashamed to admit that he acknowledged the pain she was in.

"You're still around? Thought you would've left us," Sheila rudely commented.

"Where's Ariel and Caleb?" He asked looking at every face individually.

"I thought they were with you."

Since all there was to do but go up, Kevin was sure that the twins would eventually locate them. He rounded the teenagers together and walked towards the pair of wooden doors. Turning a handle for one door only, he opened the door and casually entered the room without doing any sort of check like he usually did. Sheila, who had been probing his every action since she laid eyes on him, found this odd. Kevin navigated his way through the room, walking around overturned tables and stepping over museum stands, avoiding glass in the process. Looking outside through the only three windows in the room, the skies looked a deep blue with a tinge of magenta at the far end, indicating that daybreak was arriving.

Kevin made it to the second pair of doors in the room, where the said staircases lied on the other side. Opening the doors, which happened to creak loudest than any other door—what wasn't stairs, it was another room, was on the other side. The room was more than enough room for all of them, but it was oddly narrower than the other rooms they had been through. The only similarity the room shared with the others was its musty state. It was dark and everyone had their flashlight to provide them with some sort of light,

"Where's the stairs?" Sheila asked.

"Just down there," Kevin replied, cutting to the right.

From a distance, Kevin made sure they were all safely in the room and he kindly asked Saul to close the door behind him for safety reasons he had yet to mention. As Kevin kept his hand tightly clenched around his crowbar, he looked back at the teens and brought his finger to his lips. He inched closer to the doors in the back of the room and slowly twisted the doorknob. Looking back, he spoke,

"I'm sorry," Kevin opened the door and dashed through to the other side.

"I knew—KEVIN!" Sheila released Zee and ran ahead.

Sliding to a stop, she witnessed two Runners being roughly tossed onto the floor before her very eyes.

"SHIT!" Saul shouted in fright. He turned around and tried exiting through the same door they walked in from. Unfortunately, the door wouldn't budge all the way, "Shit. Shit! Shit! _SHIT!_ "

"What are you doing?! PUSH, SAUL!" Zee screamed.

"I AM! WE'RE LOCKED IN!"

Putting their current situation with one another aside, Zee held on to one door while he held on the other and pushed their mightiest. Nothing.

Sheila put up her fists and swung the first blow at the Runner who managed to get close enough to her. As it toppled backward, Sheila took the chance to run back to her comrades. Seeing that they struggled as well, she replaced Zee's position, leaving Zee to watch the Runners recover. The Runners spirited towards Zee and one immediately pinned Zee to the wall, slamming her head against it. She shook the dizziness off and kept her arms rested on the Runner's shoulder to keep it back from biting her. Sheila came in from the side and pistol whipped the Runner in the dome with a loud yell, causing it to fall back with a heavy landing. Panicked, with a mascara ran face, Zee looked around and saw a stained towel and handed it to Sheila who immediately got the memo. She swiftly wrapped it twice it around the Runner's throat and attempted to strangle the life out of it.

"SHEILA?" Zee heard a random voice over the noise.

"Ariel…?" Zee muttered.

"SAUL? ZEE?"

"ARIEL!?, WE'RE LOCKED IN HERE!" Zee shouted, "KEVIN LIED TO US!"

Meanwhile so much was going on, Zee looked over at Saul who was occupied by the second Runner. Unclear of what was going on, Saul's arm swayed by her face and blood flew on the left side of her cheek. Saul eventually took the Runner to the ground and choked it out while slamming its head against the floorboards multiple times. Eventually, it was dead.

Out of the blue, the sealed doors flew open—revealing Caleb and Ariel, who was armed with a sword. Ariel leaped in and stabbed Sheila's Runner in the head with his sword to end it quickly.

Sheila fell back to the floor to catch her breath. Saul straddled his Runner's body to catch his breath as well.

"What the hell happened?" Ariel asked, kneeling beside Sheila, "Why the hell was the door zip tied?!"

"Kevin led us to this room and randomly sicked two Runners on us," Saul answered from across the corridor.

"…B-but why?" Caleb asked, shaken from outside the doorway.

"Who knows why anyone does anything anymore," Zee answered with a cracked voice. She slid down the wall into a crouch, "I-I just wanna go home…we should've never snuck out. It was wrong."

"I agree…" Ariel nodded, "It's okay. We're getting out of here."


	24. Chapter 23 - Goodbye, Firefly

Everyone was up and ready to go. There was so much tension that Ariel understood why no one took notice of his sword as much as he hoped they would. Proceeding to move through the next exit that Kevin went through, it appeared that he was honest about the staircase lying on the other side. Ariel held his new sword, and although he didn't know how to use it, his plan was to hack and stab. _Hack and stab. Hack and stab_ , he thought nonstop in case he ever came across an Infected.

Caleb was unfamiliar with holding a gun that didn't use BBs, especially with his last encounter with the Runner he killed. Figuring it anyone else would put it to better use, he gave Ariel's last four bullets to Sheila. As Ariel, Caleb, and Sheila went ahead, Zee walk closely behind them but looked down once she felt her foot kick something: It was Kevin's crowbar. Zee picked it up and weighed it in her palm. It felt durable enough to use as a weapon, so she kept it for herself.

"You okay…?" Saul randomly asked.

Frightened, she faced him and nodded, hoping he didn't expect as much as a word from her. He reacted nervously, unable to look at her in the face for too long and awkwardly walked past her to follow the rest. As he brushed past, Zee took notice of a bloody patch on the end of his right sleeve. Recalling the time she first noticed it, she reached up to touch her left cheek. Wiping her cheek, she remembered the blood from the recent incident. Without jumping to conclusions, she ignored it and followed behind him. Zee was the last to reach them and she saw her comrades, in front of a shut door, braced for a fight.

"Are you guys ready?" Ariel asked holding the door knob to the third floor.

Zee accompanied Sheila on one side while the boys stood on the other. Slowly opening the door, Sheila pointed her pistol to what appeared to be about six armed men and women. The kids froze as all faces turned to look at them—Kevin's own being amongst them. Both parties remained awfully quiet, exchanging dirty and awkward glances at one another.

"Look. Their name tags…" Caleb pointed out.

Ariel was at a loss for words once he realized each one had Firefly pendants. That's when the teenagers realized that they finally found what they were looking for.

Sheila put down her arm and saw Kevin in the crowd,

"What the hell was the point of that?" She asked, clearly infuriated.

Out from the group came a hooded woman, who pulled down her hood and revealed herself to have brown skin and short curly black hair. It was a face they all recognized from the wanted posters all around the quarantine zone and hallways. It was Marlene.

"I'm sorry about that," she said, "I heard you over my colleague's walkie and heard that you were looking to join the Fireflies. So, I had a test set up."

"That was a test?!" Saul emerged. He spoke distastefully. "You're fucking crazy y'know that, lady!?"

His voice projected enough to echo throughout the spacious room. Once he made his aggressive move, the other Fireflies pointed their guns at him. But Saul wasn't afraid of a couple of guns. He was too blinded by rage.

"I understand how this may seem out of line to you, but you'll eventually understand if you want to become a part of this. Recruits aren't coming in like they used to. And you lived, so that guarantees you all a spot. At least every Firefly in this room has gone through some kind of test to prove their worth. Including me," Her voice was honeyed, being oddly pleasant to listen to in such an unpleasant situation. That's when Kevin stepped in beside her and whispered something in her ear, "…Except the twins. You two have yet to prove yourselves. Even if you don't want to join now, you're all welcome to come to me whenever you can."

"Fuck this, man…" Saul said, wide eyed. It was hard for him to stand in one place and he began taking steps back. Once they looked close enough, they could tell his eyes were going to water, "I'm out of here."

"What the hell? Saul! You pulled us out here, you can't just leave us!" Sheila said, her eyes following his every move.

"Oh, yeah, wanna bet?" Immediately Saul turned around and quickly walked away.

"Saul!" Ariel called out, "Saul!" He called again after being ignored the first time. Ariel ran behind him and grabbed the back of his sweater, causing Saul to turn around and point his gun at him.

"What the—HEY!" Caleb roared, as soon as he noticed the gun. For his safety, he was held back by Sheila and Zee.

"What the hell is going on with you, Saul?" Ariel asked, genuinely concerned. He put both his hands up, proving he didn't want any trouble.

"Look…just _please_ don't follow me…" Saul responded through his gritted teeth. He was sweating bullets, and he was trembling as if he was overwhelmed by fear. His friends had never seen him this scared in his life. With that being noted, Ariel nodded his head in understanding,

"Okay."

"I'm sorry," Saul apologized.

Saul slowly backed away from his friends and began running down the stairs until his departing footsteps were no longer heard.

"Don't worry about him," Marlene said, "If he isn't a coward, he'll come back when he's ready."

Ariel turned around and looked at Marlene with a look of disbelief. He was beginning to crack, himself. He fought incredibly hard to prevent his frustrations from unraveling,

"Do you have _any_ idea what we went through to get here? He shouldn't have a choice. We didn't," he swallowed, "Reese didn't."

"I'm aware that you lost a friend, yes. And I am very sorry for your loss. I know how much it hurts losing someone to those wretched monsters,"

"The same monsters you threw at us?" Zee asked.

"I know what this looks like," she nodded, making eye contact with every one of them individually, "But I will make it up to you. I promise you, his death won't be in vain. I already explained that you—"

Marlene was then cut off by what sounded like three vehicles on the outside. Two of the five Fireflies ran to the windows to peer outside, seeing four military soldier's hop outside of a military Humvee.

"We got military, Marlene" Kevin panicked while reloading his rifle, "Three of 'em."

Marlene quickly snapped into character and looked at the teenagers,

"Okay, we have to save this conversation for another day…but only if you want to!" Marlene pointed to a door to the southwest corner of the room, "Through that doorway is a ladder that leads to the rooftop. You're going to jump from this room unto the next building. It's doable. They're nearly pressed up against one another you can't miss it since the other building is too far off. After you all make that jump, you will go through the rooftop door, go one floor down, and get to the closest window for the fire escape. That building is swarmed with all types of Infected, so _be_ careful, understand?!" They all nodded, "Now go."

Marlene pulled out her pistol and proceeded to exit the room with her soldiers. Ariel, Sheila, and Zee watched her bravely charge into danger, meanwhile Caleb didn't hesitate to run towards the emergency exit. Eventually, they all followed him and all four hands fought to grab the knob that opened the door. They rushed up the stairs and tried opening the door that was nailed shut by a random bar of wood. Zee stepped in from the side and used the crowbar. With help from her friends, they popped the bar off with ease and flew the door open.

The sky was now ranging from orange, to magenta, to a deep, deep blue. Almost like a gradient. The orange at the far end of the horizon was a sign that the sun was beginning to rise, and sooner or later they would have to make it to back to school.

Finding the building to jump over to wasn't an issue. The distance wasn't something to fear, but the drop looked further than it did. Caleb and Ariel made it across with no problem and they waited for the girls,

"Come on, we've got you!" One of them said.

Sheila turned to looked at Zee and held her hand,

"Ready?" Sheila asked.

Zee nodded.

Both girls jumped, having a small scream escape Zee. The landing wasn't as bad as they thought, having the twins add a little break to their landing by trying to catch them. Preparing to get moving, they all fell to the floor as a reaction to the sound of automatic gunshots. Getting back up, the four of them ran their quickest, and opened the rooftop door into the building. By their surprise, a swarm of spores emerged from the entrance. Ariel spread his arms out and threw himself back to prevent them from walking into a trap that every cordyceps had. Without wasting time, they reached into their backpacks and pulled out gasmasks. Entering the doorway, the loose hinges caused the door to slam hard and loud behind them. Responding to the loud slam, croaks and yells were heard coming from separate areas in the building.

Caleb was the first to toggled on his flashlight and point it down the stairs. Eventually, he was followed by the rest. Sheila took her gun from her back pocket and checked the magazine, counting the four bullets she never used.

"Do you think one of them is in here?" Sheila asked, bravely stepping to the front of the group.

"I didn't hear a scream come from in here…" Ariel said, breathing heavily.

Walking through the sea of pores that danced around them, they cautiously made their way to the bottom of the stairs. As they turned the corner, they ran into the producer of their spores—a Clicker's corpse, with fungus blossoming from its exposed ribcage.

"Ugh, I hate seeing them like that," Zee said.

"Better dead than alive…" Ariel remarked, attempting to keep the volume low.

Beside the corpse was a doorway, labeled 'hallway 3C'—a hallway that led to the top floor of the apartment. While Caleb stepped behind the door and slowly opened it, Sheila pointed her gun into the corridor. Slowly making it out, there was only one way to go. Facing towards that direction, she held her gun up and walked until they met the first opened doorway that led into an open room. From where she was, it looked clear, but she made the rest of them go ahead to check it out. Zee slowly entered the room first and walked towards a window that didn't seem to have the fire escape outside of it. Searching around, she entered a bedroom and quickly fell back at the sight of a Clicker facing a wall.

Everyone responded almost immediately at the sight of her sinking into a crouch.

" _What kind?_ " Ariel mouthed.

" _Clicker_ ," she mouthed back.

Reaching beside him, Caleb grabbed a handful of pebbles and threw it at the wall inside of the room, causing the Clicker to immediately be attracted to the sound and come into the open. Zee boldly got up and delivered blows to Clicker's face about four times. With the help from Ariel, he came in from behind and pushed the Clicker unto the bed and stabbed it through to the mattress.

The with the astonishing hearing that all Infected had, the noise alerted the other Infected in the vicinity, and Sheila immediately ran inside of the room and slammed the door shut behind her. Caleb ran to her aid and pushed moderately heavy furnishings in front of the door as a blockade. It wasn't going to hold as much as they hoping, considering one of the Runners managed to get its hand through the opening; thus, having Ariel drop by and slice its forearm off. _Just hack and stab. Hack and stab_.

"The window!" Caleb exclaimed, running by Zee to open it.

Meanwhile Ariel stood by the door with Sheila, Zee and Caleb opened the window from the bedroom, which led to the fire escape on the outside. Zee crawled through first, then Caleb followed.

"Come on! Let's go!" Caleb shouted.

Holding the furniture in place at this point, Sheila and Ariel beamed towards the window, with Ariel basically flying through as if he were some skilled traceur. Sheila climbed through just as the dresser was knocked down and the apartment door was flung open. Reaching from the top of the window frame, the four kids sealed the window shut just in time. From the opposite side of the window, the children stared back into the demonic red eyes that were trying to bite their way through the window. The teenagers watched the Infected like they were being kept behind a glass in a zoo and had personally never been this close to one. As intrigued as they were, it took a cracking of the glass to frighten them back into prey-mode. With Caleb ahead of them, they ran down the fire escape until they safely made it down the ladder.

Before they could continue their escape, the teens hid behind the building that was just beside the museum—it was the same area where they converged to fight off the swarms of Infected before they were saved by Kevin; it only meant one thing—Reese.

Although it was no one's mind at the moment, Zee spotted Reese's lifeless body in the middle of the road.

"Don't look…" Caleb said, pulling her back.

As Zee turned around, she noticed someone coming out of the corner of the same building. They looked a lot more distressed than they normally did. It was Saul, and he was ready to rejoin his party of allies. He was pale and was covered head to toe in sweat. He almost looked sick, and he kept his left eye pinched shut.

"H-hey guys," he shuddered, "I-I'm really sorry I left. I-I just couldn't stay. I was just overwhelmed by everything that happened out here and in there…y'know," he took a step closer, and pointed to one of the vehicles behind the group, "Look, we can hop in there and take the main road back to the quarantine zone. I know how to get there."

Just as Ariel was willing to accept him into their perimeter, Zee spoke.

"Wait!"

Ariel looked back at her, bothered by whether this might've been a personal response from what she just saw. There was no time for that.

Zee looked at Saul's right sleeve and could tell that it was drenched in more blood than before. She was probably the only one who picked up on Saul bleeding after Marlene's test,

"Show us your arm…" Zee demanded.

"C'mon Zee…now's not the time," Saul stepped closer.

"STOP!"

"What's your problem?" Ariel asked, impatiently.

Zee paused, looking at Saul, deciding whether it was best to reveal such a tragedy that only she had picked up on. Vocally, it would be for the safety of the group, but silently she would be doing it for vengeance. She didn't feel guilty, because if the shoe were on the other foot, anyone would do it.

"He's bit."

"Zee," Saul started, "Zee. Zee, I'm _so, so, so,_ sorry about Reese. I-I know, I know I deserve to be hated by you, but I just want to get back home," he made a harsh face that showed he was deeply filled with emotion. It was the most he had shown the entire night, let alone whenever he was with friends. He fell to his knees and begged, "I can't stay here. _Please_. I-I feel fine."

Seeing Saul fall to his knees was more telling than anything. Sheila moved Zee aside and stepped in front of her,

"Show us your wrist, Saul…" Sheila said, keeping her hand rested on her pistol.

Saul quieted his coughs and whines and did as he was told. Slowly, he rolled up his sleeve and revealed a bite that had torn through the top layer of his skin.

" _Fuck!_ " Ariel cursed silently while holding his head and almost losing his balance. He rested on the wall for support and sealed his eyes tight while his lips trembled.

Sheila's eyes watered, but she was on the defensive for their own survival. She trusted Saul, and probably knew him longest, but she couldn't deny that Saul was a selfish asshole that risked others life just for the guarantee of his own,

"Why weren't you going to tell us!?" she asked, having her throat grow raspy from wanting to cry, "HUH?! All you've ever cared about yourself!" She pointed back to Reese's corpse, "It's why he's dead!"

While Sheila prepped for a rant, Saul slowly made it from one knee to a quick stance and pulled out his pistol. It pained Sheila but she did it back. Feeling weak to the fiber of her being, it took an army of spirits to keep her gun aimed,

"Saul, put the gun down…" Ariel said, attempting to calm the situation, "Please, Saul. There's four of us and one of you."

Saul shuffled his aim back and forth at all four of them. First at Zee, Sheila, Ariel, back at Zee, then to Caleb—and that's when it remained.

"You…"

"Me?" Caleb said, putting his trembling hands up.

"This is your fault. Ever since you came along things have been off," he aggressively pointed his gun, "YOU FUCKED THINGS UP!"

"SAUL LISTEN TO YOURSELF!" Ariel shouted over him, "Please, Saul…don't do that. He's my brother."

Scattered gunshots were coming from all over the museum. It would only be a matter of time before the military returned if they got the upper hand. So, choices had to be made quick.

"You're _infected_ , Saul…there's nothing we can do!" Sheila said.

"SHUTUP!" Saul roared back, "Don't you think I know that?! I-I just know that…I just know that I don't want to be infected—I rather die. And the only way for me to die…" he took a deep shakey breath, "…is for me to do this."

Saul pulled the trigger and Ariel turned his back and jumped on his brother. Zee let out a shrill scream and covered her mouth while watching Ariel fall on top of his brother,

"ARIEEEL!" She sobbed.

Stunned, Saul dropped his gun and watched Ariel heavily bleed. Ariel was still alive, but he was groaning in grave pain while Caleb rolled his brother over to rest him on his back. He was alert, but clearly distraught. His breathing sound choked, and his eyes darted all over the place. Stammering, Saul took a step forward,

"STAY BACK!" Sheila said, gun still pointed.

"Sheila, shoot him!" Zee cried, trying to stop Ariel's bleeding. She pressed her bare palms underneath the wound on his back, "Ariel…" she sniffed, "Please don't die."

"Why would you do that?" Caleb asked, questioning the sacrifice. Tears fell from his eyes and seeped into fabric of Ariel's shirt, leaving visible marks of droplets, "It's not your job to do that!"

Doing the math in her head, Sheila could tell Saul rightfully regretted his irrational behavior. Between the five of them, Saul was the far more capable of transporting Caleb to the car. She had a plan.

"Do you want to help?" Sheila questioned, receiving odd looks from the rest of the group. Saul didn't respond, "I SAID DO YOU WANT TO HELP?! BE USEFUL!"

Saul nodded quickly.

"Then sit him up in the backseat of the car. Caleb go open the back doors for your brother."

"Sheila…" Caleb started off.

"Shutup, Caleb," she said, turning to face him, "Just do it…please…" her eyes begged.

Reluctant to leave his brother's side, a simple nod of Ariel's head was able to encourage his brother to run in the middle of the road and unlock the rest of the doors to the accessible Humvee.

Sheila offered Saul a chance to escape with them, but only if he put his stature to use. Of course, with a little aid from the others, Saul carried Ariel and laid him in the backseat of the open Humvee. Ariel entered the backseat, resting his brother's head comfortably in his lap. Zee jumped into the passenger's side and Sheila stood by the driver's side while Saul slammed the backdoor shut. Feeling something pressed against his side, Saul froze,

"Back up," Sheila said.

Saul looked over at her, only moving his eyes,

"Wh-why are you doing this?"

"Saul," Sheila began sobbing, "Saul, you're Infected. And you're a murderer. You can't come back with us, I'm sorry."

"If you leave me out here, you'll be a murderer too! What more do you want from me? I-I said I was sorry."

"Saul! Listen to yourself! Once they scan you for Infection back at the zone, you're dead anyway. You know it!"

"So why didn't you kill me when I shot at Caleb?!" Saul sobbed, cautiously moving to face her. He looked at the pistol woefully, praying that she'd pull the trigger, "Do it."

"I-I can't…" She shook her head, "You were my friend. I just can't."

Sheila backed up into the driver's seat and locked every set of doors once she entered. Saul banged at the windows and kicked the tires, wanting to have a final word with them. He searched himself for his gun and realized he dropped it back where he accidentally shot Ariel. Zee helped search for an extra pair of keys and found it in the glove compartment. Looking through the rearview mirror, Zee began screaming,

"HE'S GOT HIS GUN, HE'S GOT HIS GUN!"

Sheila started the car and immediately pulled off. Saul chased the car, firing his remaining bullets at the vehicle as it sped away. The back window was busted, hearing the ending of a loud roar from Saul's cries. The backlight was busted, and there was a dent left in the license plate, but that was practically it—every other shot that missed the car went astray. Sheila sobbed heavily as she drove off, nearly driving herself and the others into a ditch before she could get her head right.

* * *

"How's he doing?" Zee asked, clearly being more of a mess than Sheila.

Caleb couldn't answer. He was unable to fathom the amount of blood staining the backseat and his pants. He had never seen so much in his life.

Zee faced back to the front and exchanged worried looks with Sheila during their forty-minute ride back home. While driving, Sheila realized she was driving past the path they used to sneak out. Unfortunately, it wasn't accessible by road. The road they were currently on led back to the Boston Quarantine Zone—straight to the entrance. If any of the guards happened to spot four teenager _stragglers_ out of a _stolen_ Humvee, it would probably mean permanent exile or execution. Sheila slammed he brakes, skidding to a stop. She looked at the field that they would've had to hike their way up. Turning to the backseat, she looked at Ariel's who's breathing was becoming shallow and short. Both girls instantly climbed out of the car. While Zee hurled the keys into a nearby pond, Sheila and Caleb were carefully pulling Ariel out the backseat when Zee eventually returned to help.

With Ariel facing upwards, Caleb placed one of Ariel's legs on each shoulder meanwhile the girls wrapped Ariel's arms around their necks and shoulders. On the count of three, every one of them hauled up Ariel and carried him up the hill that eventually led to the wheat field that Ariel introduced Caleb to that same week. As they reached closer to their military school, Ariel began shouting in pain by an accidental shift of his body,

"Okay, okay, put him down, put him down…" Sheila diligently ordered.

As they placed him down, they crouched with him, being hidden by the wheat grass. Ariel lifelessly stared into the skies almost like he was dozing off. Caleb softly patted his face,

"Hey, hey, hey," he sniffled, "Don't go to sleep…"

A smile came across his face,

"Ha…I guess you were right about me getting myself killed…guess that means you can have the sword" Ariel teased.

"That isn't funny…" Caleb said, wiping his tears away.

Ariel closed his eyes,

"Ariel…" Sheila said.

He opened his eyes once again, looking up into the sky.

"We know I'm not gonna make it…I already lost too much blood," he said, trying to catch his breath in between every four words or so.

"No," Caleb said, nudging is brother's leg, "You're going to live. We'll take you to see someone."

"Caleb. Please," he swallowed, "I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry I dragged you into this. And I'm sorry you have to see me like this," he looked up, seeing Caleb's show a pain that he recognized from the day their mother died. He bit his bottom lip, feeling like he let down his brother for the millionth time. He would've done anything to change that, but it was already too late, "I-I'm sorry…" he took a couple of breaths, "I'm sorry I wasn't a better brother…and I'm sorry…that I wasn't around."

Caleb's bottom lip trembled along with every breath he made,

"I love you," Ariel said, sounding like it was his last breath.

"I love you too. But you're going to make it, okay?" Ariel looked up at him, "Okay?" Caleb reached forward and rattled his brother's shoulder, "Hey. Okay?"

Zee realized that Ariel's chest stopped rising and falling from his short breaths. Fearfully, she placed her finger underneath Ariel's jaw to feel for his pulse. Pulling her hand away like she touched something hot, she covered her mouth with both hands and looked over at Caleb. She tightened her eyes shut and silently wept. Her body jerked from every overwhelming breath that was let out. Sheila reached forward and closed both of Ariel's eyes with her fingers. She proceeded to stand up and clear her throat. Walking over to Zee, she helped Zee to her feet and walked her through the plains. Stopping to turn back at Caleb, she spoke,

"I-I'm sorry, Caleb…"

As Sheila and Zee made their way into school through the blown-out wall, the sun fully showed itself. The sun illuminated the wheat fields to the golden color Caleb adored so much, reminding him of the he and his brother laid in it. His head hung low, not even having the strength to pick it up. He held his brother's cold hands and sobbed loudly, not caring who heard him. He looked down at his brother every couple of seconds, hoping that Ariel would reopen his eyes. For some odd reason, he blamed himself. Maybe Saul was right—maybe things would've turned out differently if he didn't come along. Maybe if he knew how to defend himself, Ariel wouldn't have gotten shot.

* * *

It was hours later and Caleb remained planted beside Ariel's body. Looking down at his brother with eyes heavier than they've ever felt. From hours of strenuous crying, all that was left was the small jitters everyone felt when they were dried out. His shoulders were hunched and jittering, recovering from the long and painful time he spent weeping over his brother's body.

"I'm sorry…" a soothing voice said from behind.

Startled, Caleb slightly turned to see Marlene standing above him with her arms crossed. She was all alone with no backup.

"I've seen that look before. I had it on my face when my sister died in my arms," seeing that she was getting no response from him, she took a deep breath before speaking again, "This wasn't your fault…the military was the cause of this. Understand?"

"How?" Caleb asked with a worn-out voice, "I-I couldn't p-protect him…"

"They were the reason your brother sought sanctuary are they not? And they're the reason we had to end our meeting so early. They're the reason behind _everything_. They thrive off people's misery," Ariel sat silent, "Why couldn't you bring him to the guards at the front gate?" She asked.

Caleb shrugged.

"You know why. You feared they weren't going to do anything to save him. And you were right."

Caleb sniffled his whimpers, sealing his mouth from the dry tears that ran to the corners of his mouth,

"Look at me. Don't let his death be in vain…join for your brother."

"I can't replace him," Caleb said, bothered.

"I'm not asking that. I'm asking that you to _fight_ for a better cause. _Fight_ for what your brother wanted. Come with me and I'll train you how to protect yourself and others. You'll never have to suffer the same feeling ever again. I'll teach you how to make it stop and I'll give you whatever you need."

As Caleb watched her, he looked back down at his brother's body and rested his palm on the katana. After a long pause, Caleb looked up at her,

"Will you help me bury him?"

"Yes."

Caleb looked back down. Although it was tough, he managed to stand up. Revealing his and Marlene's silhouettes, to whoever was watching that golden field.


	25. Chapter 24 - The Airport

**WINTER - PRESENT**

* * *

It was funny how irony worked. Attics were the best bet if you wanted to remain safe and far from infected. But during the summers, attics would be the hottest in the entire house. So hot that sleeping fully clothed was something to seriously consider. Attics were by far the best insulated; but during the winter? That was a different story. Forget about insulation and trying to keep warm—it felt no different than sleeping outside. That's how it was for the past four weeks, but there was something different about the houses once James and Caleb crossed into Denver.

Fortunately, a couple of the houses in Denver had a very classic, old timey feel to them. Even if you had never witnessed architecture or knew what it was, you could certainly tell apart the differences in style—which was older and which was more modern. Especially after sleeping in house after house, church after church, and building after building. The conscious brain could just pick up on these things. You could take what you saw from James' magazines, random books, and even photo albums, and just piece it all together.

Majority of the attics in Denver possessed a small, black, little woodstove, and attached to the woodstove was a long funnel that would shimmy its way up along the walls and through the ceiling like a chimney. As eager as the boys were to sleep in front of a lit woodstove, finding the most essential part didn't come easy. Venturing out, they made it their personal duty to gather a shitload of sticks and branches, enough to completely fill both of their backpacks. They hiked back home, threw it in the woodstove, and ran back just to grab some more that would accommodate the time they planned to stay.

The warmth that radiated from the woodstove was a blessing, and the boys couldn't be more thankful, but it just seemed like total comfort was just too much to ask for. Each time Caleb would close his eyes and doze off, he would be awoken by a whooping cough. With opened eyes, he stared at ceiling and gave a silent exhaled with annoyance. Turning to his side, hoping that it would made a difference, he was sadly mistaken once James coughed again. Groaning, he sat up and turned to look at James who was sitting beside the woodstove; back pressed against the wall, eyes closed, head craned back. Hoping to get an unnoticed peek at Caleb, it was a glare he recognized down to a tee,

"What?" James asked, slightly feeling ashamed.

"Nothing…" Caleb said, sitting up.

"Am I too loud I'll go downstairs if you want."

Caleb pondered for a moment.

"You _can_ say 'no, it's fine' a little quicker…"

Subtly smiling, Caleb looked down at James' hands. Resting underneath his folded palms, was a familiar looking photograph, and once the light from the window hit it at the right angle, Caleb could see that it was his family photo. Almost in denial at first, Caleb reached forward and snatched the photo from James' fingers. Looking at it just to confirm, he stared at his mother & brother's face,

"I'm sorry. I just…I didn't think it would…" James paused, "Since you opened up to me about him, I thought it was okay…"

Caleb reached across James and opened his bookbag. He tossed the photograph in between a magazine to prevent it from crumbling any further. Returning to his spot of blankets, he attempted to fall back asleep, this time turning his back to James. Body language just spoke so much.

"You mad at me?" James questioned.

"No…" Caleb said, mixed in with a sigh.

James extended his leg forward and slightly nudged Caleb's shoulder. Caleb sat up and turned his head to give an irritated look that James, for some reason, loved seeing. After Caleb laid back down, he felt a nudge on his shoulder again,

"Stop," Caleb said without lifting his head.

"Or what?" James said, egging him for a reaction.

With his foot, James tapped his shoulder again. Caleb eventually made it to his feet, and James quickly did as well. James, however had a toothsome smirk on his face. It was clear that he planned for this to happen. Caleb, tilted his head to the side as he picked up on it and kept the usual dry expression on his face. James reached forward and grabbed Caleb by the collar of his coat and attempted to pull him in. Caleb submissively allowed himself to be reeled and was inches away from James' face. Caleb squinted his eyes with a subtle smile and challenged him by looks alone.

"You mad, Caleb?" James asked. He gritted his teeth and the muscles in his jaw could be seen emerging as his hold tightened. His face was closing in with the intension to start some excitement, "Huh?"

Just as he thought he had the upper hand, Caleb flawlessly overthrew him. He turned away raising his palm to James' face.

"I already told you, I can't afford to get sick."

"Come on. Let me Infect you with my sickly germs. It'll only be a matter of time before I do," James said, attempted to plant a wet one again. Getting no response at all from Caleb, James let out an obnoxious groan, "Fine."

It was so unsurprising coming from a sourpuss like Caleb. James rested his nose against Caleb's cheek and imitated the snort sounds of pig, hoping to get something romantic started…but no. He did a decent job at hiding his disappointment, and he eventually released Caleb's jacket. Caleb walked to the back of the room and grabbed two handfuls of thick branches. Returning to the woodstove, James quickly assisted by holding the woodstove's cover open. Caleb kneeled and glanced up at him with a small nod,

"Thank you."

Caleb carefully tossed the sticks into the woodstove and watched the flames grow. James kneeled beside him and spoke,

"You're not telling me something," James said, addressing the elephant. Caleb didn't answer, leading James to appreciate his profile—his fiery hazel eyes, long eyelashes, pronounced nose and thin lips. Caleb could feel the glare, but pretended he didn't notice it. After Caleb was emptyhanded, he felt a hand rest on his thigh, "Is it because we have pick up where we left off soon?"

"No," Caleb lied.

"You know," James said staring into the woodstove as well, "I know you so well, I can tell when you're lying. When you give one worded answers, you're usually annoyed. _And_ if it's a 'yes', 'no', or 'maybe so', you're lying."

"That isn't true," Caleb said looking over at him.

"So, you're okay with this whole trip to San Francisco?"

"Yes," he answered, looked over at James, who couldn't help but smile, "And I'm fine with you leaving me after you drop me here," he subliminally exposed as the issue.

James properly folded his legs, sitting Indian style beside the firefly. Boldly wrapping his arm around Caleb's shoulder, Caleb was prompted to settle and sit the same way. Caleb hesitantly rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes. As comfortable as they were, James faked a cough loud enough to turn severe. Caleb playfully elbowed him in the ribs,

"Ow!" James snickered.

* * *

For the past three days, there was the harshest snow storm that either boys had been in. On the final day of the storm, the boys ran out of sticks and branches to keep their wood stove running. So, it was all about sharing body warmth until then. Until it was time to go, the boys gathered all their belongings and got to moving. James closed the fading green door behind him and reached into his backpack to pull out a marker. He marked a large "X" and wrote the letters "J" and "C" on each of the insides. It was a random ritual James started doing almost like when an animal marked their territory. James stepped back from the door and stared at it for a minute before Caleb could grab his attention.

For being so overbearing, Caleb went out of his way to hunt for some proper winter attire for his companion—James kept his lousy, navy-colored uniform, but had some thermals underneath for better insulation. He was given a thick, denim coat with a wool lining. Admittedly, Caleb specifically picked it out because he thought it would make James look irresistible…but he wasn't going to admit that. However, there was something essential that Caleb couldn't find, and it was the reason James caught a cold in the first place: A winter hat and some gloves.

Caleb wore a pea coat and put it on top of everything else he has worn these past few months, having the long hems of his cardigan sweatshirt hang from beneath his coat. Over his head was a ski mask with a visor that only left his grimacing eyes exposed. He tripled his socks to keep his toes warm, but it rarely prevented any numbness from penetrating his worn-out soles.

Afterward, they both agreed to an irrational plan to walk nonstop until they were officially out of Denver, and it took nearly a day and a half, with almost no rest, until they were by the countryside. The was nothing but mountains and empty plains. The weather was so harsh there was no way telling if an Infected stood a chance out there.

Colorado's winters was the type of winter James hoped to never encounter in his life. _Never say never_ , he thought. It didn't matter how much hair he had on his head. It wasn't a lot to begin with; just a sleazy-looking pompadour and some rabidly growing hair. The breezes were so piercing James could believe that the blood in his head had reached a freezing point. His ears were numb and he shivered like the beating of a humming bird's wings. His lips were chapped and bleeding as a result of speaking so much. Miniscule wads of ice clung unto his brows, as well as Caleb's (but they mostly sat atop his ashes). They had hardly eaten at this point. Throughout all their travels, James and Caleb never had any trouble finding shelter until now. Everywhere, shelter was either blocked off or too dangerous to enter, and the snow made it so much harder to see. _It's just a little further_ , James kept telling himself. Regardless of Caleb wanting James to rest, the former soldier already had his mind set. Instead of standing under something that would provide cover, James stood in the open road to reach for his map. His fingers weren't moving fast enough because of the numbness, but Caleb stepped in and quickly unfurled it for him. As James traced with his fingers, he followed the path they were on. He shivered intensely as he looked up and back down multiple times. He swallowed, trying his hardest to avoid Caleb's attention. There was something wrong. Instead of notifying Caleb, he returned his map to his pocket and continued to move. The truth of it all? James had accidentally taken a wrong path. There wasn't any way of telling where they were because they were stuck in the middle of nowhere.

No matter which direction you looked, there was nothing but miles of snow ahead. The fact that the boys were lost could no longer remained a secret—since them moment they ended up in the middle of nowhere, Caleb knew. It had never happened before, but there was no point in getting James to fess up because something was seriously wrong with him, and whatever it was, it was getting worse. His shivering was worsening, he would respond abnormally to questions, his speech was slurred and he kept tripping over…over nothing.

As they completed nearly an hour of walking, there was something that resembled a lone ranch a couple of yards away.

"T-t-there," James said softly, having difficulty catching his breath. While Caleb was already ahead, the Firefly turned back to see James heavily depending on a car. He knew the current conditions they were under, and this was really the first time he saw James reaching a breaking point. He approached James and looked into his eyes, that were usually filled with a glister of confidence—but it was just emptiness. His persona was deteriorating. Caleb was beginning to get extremely concerned,

"I'm…fine…" James said, avoiding the shiver by timing.

As Caleb pulled James off the vehicle, Caleb was curious to see anything like it. It was unconventional from what Caleb was used to seeing, but he was sure it was some type of car; it just had very small wheels, no doors, and a windshield. Focusing back his attention to James, they picked up the pace.

* * *

A couple of minutes later they reached the structure that looked similar to an upgraded ranch, but it was far too big to be a ranch. It was used for the public in past. All around, its towering windows possessed wooden awnings with brackets that stretched all the way into a lining. The lining was stone texture, infused with rocks and pebbles. Caleb assisted James by guiding him to sit on something while he took a quick stroll around the building.

James impatiently stood up and approached one of the windows, stumbling on his way there. He covered his eyes with his frigid hands and pressed his face up against the glass to get a better look at the dark interior. It was smaller than it looked from the outside, but he could've cared less. The only thing standing between James and this place was finding a way in. The idea of having to stay in the cold any longer was a deal breaker and James began a vigorous search for a tool he could use. Remembering a brick in his book bag, it only proved itself as a pointless compact of clay and shale.

He searched even more, going out of his way to grab objects that protruded from the snow. That's when he rightfully spotted tilted legs of an old stool, tilting upright in the air. James yanked the legs and boldly hurled the stool through the smaller windows of the entrance. In terms of coldness, breaking the larger window would've been a big mistake since the entire thing would collapse from a small shatter. Just in the nick of time, Caleb returned. He questioned himself if this was a tipping point for James. It probably was. The remnants of glass around the edges of the entrance or on the floor didn't prevent James from gripping the edges with bare hands or rolling on the floor once he crawled through. It was all signs of exhaustion and carelessness. Struggling to make it to his knees afterward, he successfully stood up.

Looking around to see if the noise might have alarmed any enemies from the outside, Caleb followed right behind him after declaring the coast clear. Nearly slipping on some glass and sludge from James' boots, James held him upright and marched off. Caleb preemptively looked all around at the building, attempting his best to see if he could possibly make out anything hiding in the shadows.

"It's an airport in case you were wondering," Caleb's soothing voice traveled. Other than the gaping hole that James created, everywhere else appeared to be surprisingly intact. There were no signs of Infected, and they seemed safe for the time being, "How are you feeling?" Caleb asked with his back turned and keeping a hectic lookout.

"Better. Now that we're in-inside…" James cupped his hands together and blew warm breath into them. As he felt the blood flow return to his fingertips, he couldn't help but feel a strange sensation of them wanting to burst. He practically stood across the airport; in a spot far enough to avoid the chills that breezed the broken window. His neurotic shivering stopped, but his entire face was ghoulishly pale, "We just need to eat...and get warm."

Standing about fifteen feet away, Caleb turned his attention back to James, carefully examining him. He looked worried, like a step was strong enough to quake James over.

"What?" James asked.

"You don't look good," Caleb said, after noticing him teeter.

"No, no…" James said, forcing a calm tone. He buried both hands into the wool pockets of his jacket and a faint smile appeared on his face. It was more of a blush after taking note of Caleb's feelings, "I-I promise. I'm fine," he took a couple of slow paced steps toward Caleb and removed his hands from his pockets. He opened his arms wide open and managed to easily wrap them around Caleb, "Let's just…let's just cuddle and keep warm. Okay?"

As he embraced him, he glanced over his lover's shoulder and saw a staggering figure behind him. He removed his arms from around Caleb and weakly shoved him behind him. He reached into his pocket and blindly pulled out his pistol like those cowboys from wild west films. The only issue? The figure did the exact same. The figure was dressed head to toe in ski gear and had a single crutch to help keep him erect. The snow all over his coat and furry hood indicated that he just came from being outdoors. It was just difficult to make out how he looked,

"You would shoot a cripple?" the armed stranger asked.

Keeping his pistol pointed, James' heart began to beat rapidly and his breathing became difficult to keep up with.

"Please, we don't want any trouble," Caleb whimpered, feeling most vulnerable "We just needed a place to stay for the night and that's it."

"Look," the stranger began, "I don't mean to be prejudice, but you young fellows look like a shit-load of trouble," he pointed his gun at the broken glass and back at the duo, "I mean, look what you did to my windows! How am I supposed to fix that?!"

The man continued speaking, but James was slowly zoning in and out. Almost every inch of his body was numb, and he felt the bizarre urge to strip nude. Although James was right in the center of it all, the aggressive exchange between the man and Caleb sounded like it were coming from a separate room. Oddly enough, their voices echoed. James wildly shook his head, at a speed that would normally make his head hurt. He fought for his arm to stay up and his eyes to stay peeled, but the urges were becoming irresistible. Using his other hand, he constantly tugged at his neckline, feeling too fatigued and confused to properly remove it. Within seconds, he flopped to the ground. Caleb tried catching him,

"Shit. James," Caleb said, ignoring the pain as he crashed to his knees, "Oh man…shit—James?" Caleb seemed to be having a nervous breakdown. He let James' body lay flat and turned him onto his back after removing his backpack, "Get up, get up, get _up_ , dammit! You're always passing out on me!" he said, as if it were between them.

The stranger, who already concealed his handgun, hesitated to walk forward and examined at the polar duo. The fact that Caleb could completely turn his back to the face of danger just to care about his companion's wellbeing spoke volumes to the other person in the room,

"I can help," he said, genuinely offering some guidance.

Caleb grabbed the handgun from beneath James' palm and pointed it up at the stranger, idiotically looking away a couple of times.

"Just…don't! okay? Stay right there,"

"Foolish children…" the older man said, continuing to limp forward on his crutch. Caleb held back tears. He immediately stood up and unsheathed his blade, holding it out with one arm. He held the tip of the katana directly at the unarmed stranger. The stranger held up one arm, using the other to remain supported by his crutch. He chuckled lightly, hoping to create a sense of friendliness but also pity, "A sword? Is that what you fight with?" Failing to even get a response, bad or good, he spoke to Caleb again, "Look, I was pissed about that window, but I'm not evil. I don't want anyone dead over a dumb window, okay…? But if you don't accept my help, that's how he'll end up. I've seen this before. He's experiencing hypothermia..."

"How do you know?" Caleb asked, unconvinced of his honesty.

The stranger bit his bottom lip and exchanged silent stares. He nervously repositioned his lean.

"My son died of it," he said. A long pause took place, hoping it would be enough of an answer, "If we work together we can drag him to my camping spot, roll him in ten blankets and get him warm."

It wasn't long before Caleb packed away his weapons, grabbed James by the ankles and dragged him across the rugged floors with some assistance from the stranger. Neither of them would bother to tell him _if_ (Caleb always said "when") he woke up, but they knocked his body into countless walls, counters, chairs, and probably dropped him about three times.

* * *

Finally, the ex-soldier opened his eyes in the middle of sunrise, wrapped in three quilts and resting dangerously close to a campfire that could cleverly be sustained indoors without causing the entire building to burn down. Only moving his eyes, he could see Caleb and the stranger in his sights. They both slept with their backs pressed against the wall. Caleb sat bundled underneath a thin blanket with his arms crossed. It was inappropriate, but James found it amusing how Caleb still managed to look so observant even when he wasn't.

James easily sat himself up and fought to remove his arm out of the tight wrapped blanket. He touched his head, feeling a warm beanie. He was completely unaware of what happened. Other than pulling his gun on the stranger nearby, he couldn't recall anything else. He carefully removed the quilt, trying not to let it get anywhere near the flames. Sitting up, he looked around the pitch-black vicinity. It was eerily quiet and a soft yawn was enough to startle him. He turned to look at the flickering silhouette of the stranger straightening his posture. James stared at the man.

"Goodnight," the man said, confirming his alertness.

No question, it was a world for survivors. And nine times out of ten, your ally _will_ be someone you previously threatened.

"What happened?" James asked, reaching up to rub his head. Patting his head, he also realized that his hands were covered by two cozy mittens.

"Hypothermia. I've had it before, so I know what to do," he took a moment to point over at Caleb, "Your bud was worried sick. I'm guessing you two are close?"

"You could say that."

"I'm Yoshi," he said after giving a nod.

James evaluated Yoshi. Clearly telling by his name and facial appearance, Yoshi was Asian—something they had in common. Yoshi was much older: Maybe in his late forties. He had long, shaggy jet black hair with thick sideburns that linked to his beard and mustache. Although his lower jaw was patched up with hair, you can see hidden acne scars just above the lining. His lips were incredibly thin with a heavy droop in the center of the top lip. His skin was pale, paler than James even when he managed to get no sun these past few months. However, as James studied his every detail, Yoshi did the same in return.

"James," he said with a deep shiver.

"At best, it's below five degrees out there. What were you thinking, not wearing anything?"

"Couldn't find any…"

"Not one?"

James pretended he didn't hear. Of course, he saw some before they got around to Colorado, he was just too irresponsible to prepare.

"He's stoic as shit, that one," Yoshi continued, "How'd _he_ manage to get his hands on a katana? Ever since the world's gone to shit, culture is a thing of the past. He's the first person I've ever seen with a katana in all my forty-six years of living. I'd die to have something that reminds me of my culture. The only time I ever have my culture reminded to me is by the translations on the pamphlets in here."

"You're Japanese," James proudly answered.

Yoshi nodded.

"And you?" Yoshi asked.

"Eh, I'm not even sure," James hesitated at first, "There were only files on my mom. She was Chinese. Not sure about my dad though."

Yoshi bellowed out an obnoxious chuckle and covered his mouth as a result. James didn't respond. He couldn't because he was unsure at what was so funny. Admittedly, it was a little offensive at first.

"Sorry," Yoshi apologized, "It's just…I find it funny…you remind me a lot my son."

"I guess that is pretty ironic," James forced a smile.

"Infected got him one night. I told your friend he died from hypothermia, but I needed to gain his trust somehow so I could help you."

"I'm sure he'll forgive you."

"Well, it's gonna be morning pretty soon. So, catch up on some sleep and warm up some more. We'll speak more in the morning."

As if his mind was read, James was just thinking about ending the conversation but was afraid of coming off rude to someone who showed such hospitality. Nodding his head, he settled himself and knocked right out.

* * *

Caleb woke up to a mouth-watering scent. He was positive it was nothing he had eaten before, but he knew it was some sort of meat. Looking around, he was alone with two empty piles of comforters on the floor. Once he heard a recognizable laugh, he got up leaving his belongings behind. Making his way past multiple counters, Caleb saw the strange man and James, with a fiber bar in his hand, from afar. They didn't notice him yet, but they were getting along great for some reason. Caleb anxiously took a step forward and kept his eyes to the floor. James stopped his talking mid-sentence at the sight of Caleb, almost like he had been love-struck all over again. Barely being able to see clearly through the hat that covered his eyes, he strolled over to Caleb.

"How're you feeling?" Caleb asked, with a tilted head.

"Better. Yoshi, really saved our asses."

"He did," Caleb nodded. He shifted his eyes over to him, "Thanks."

Yoshi evaluated the two of them, including Caleb—a young man apparently oblivious to his charming appearance. James, on the other hand, just couldn't take his eyes off Caleb wherever he moved. In his clueless mind, they were obviously best friends since childhood.

"You're welcome," Yoshi gladly accepted, "I hope you like squirrel. They're nice and fat during seasons like this."

Caleb never tried squirrel and the thought of eating a rodent was repulsive, but the smell was fabulous. Yoshi was professionally frying flayed squirrels on an electric cooktop ran on batteries.

"I didn't tell you this but, I got us lost by yesterday," James interjected.

"I figured that," Caleb answered. He took James' fiber bar and bit into it, "Where were you hiding this?"

"Anyway, Yoshi said he knows a way that will point us in the right direction," using both of his hands, he rotated Caleb's attention to one of the windows, "And it's over that mountain," James pointed. The mountain was no Mount Everest and a simple hike was doable for three able-bodied people. Caleb just felt unfavorable of having to climb it this weather after what happened to James. Admittedly, he was a little concerned, so he started biting his bottom lip as a nervous reaction. James thought about speaking as Caleb had his back turned, but continued anyway, "We're starting early tomorrow. Yoshi said he's willing to leave this place to show us a path out of here. We just have to take him with us and he'll separate from us when he's ready."

"If it's gonna get us out of here: Okay," Caleb nodded.

Yoshi was celebratory of the alliance. As he finished preparing his last delicacy, he tossed the chopped body parts of the squirrel unto a thick paper towel and offered to each of them. Caleb's eyes followed the paper towel as he was served first, and took a bite into the what looked like a little squirrel leg. It was juicy and robust; or maybe he was just starving, but he stripped the leg to the bone in seconds,

"Thank you," Caleb graciously said.

Yoshi nodded showing a plentiful smile as he walked to his towel of food. While snacking on another limb, Caleb looked at Yoshi's leg. It was strange, but Yoshi no longer had a limp. Turning his attention to their vacant spot, the crutch laid there, useless.


	26. Chapter 25 - The Terminal

_( **Update 5/28/17** : Added separators)_

* * *

It had been a couple days since James' hypothermia. Since then, Yoshi was gracious enough to treat James like a son of his own. Although James promised that he was more than fine, Yoshi sacrificed the last two bags of his most favorable tea for the sake of James' warmth and healing. As a response, James respected Yoshi for all he had done. It was unintentional, but he felt a growing connection with Yoshi. There was such a relation between the two of them and they felt they could identify with one another. It was also very interesting hearing Yoshi tell stories about his family and life prior to the life he lived now. He spoke about his life in Japan as a young boy and how he attended college in America. He joined the navy at age twenty-three, he and bragged about sleeping with various women. Unfortunately, the stories were always left on a sour note when he got to the start of the apocalypse. It was him, his wife, and a son. And there was no way he could see his immediate family back in Japan. His heartbreak left a visible scar whenever he spoke about it.

Once the snow began to let down, James and Yoshi would go out to scavenge for things on their own. Caleb would stay behind and guard the airport on his own. Not because they didn't care, but because he insisted. Caleb would be lying if he said he didn't feel left out in this trio, but he somewhat understood what James was experiencing. It was a familiarity that James never expressed around him. Regardless of it being towards someone else, Caleb wasn't going to ruin that. He knew it would be temporary, so why not?

However, Caleb was beginning to develop a soft side that hindered his brutal honestly. He didn't trust Yoshi—granted, he never trusted anyone, but there was something about Yoshi that seemed like an extreme façade. He wasn't going to call it out just yet, but he would keep his eye open for the time-being.

After hours of departure, James and Yoshi had just returned from their little hunt. James was convinced by Yoshi to accompany him on a two-mile trek to get to a ranch he figured might've been loaded. Was 'loaded' the proper term? Not necessarily, but 'loaded' equated to 'more than usual'. Yoshi hoped to find some bullets for his rifle, which he admitted had been empty for far too long, claiming to survive with his bare hands. When he revealed his disfigured bones on his healed knuckles, the boys believed that Yoshi could certainly throw down for a man who had been in the navy.

Meanwhile, James approached Caleb, Yoshi vanished into a separate area to get himself warmed up and get his things ready. Once James was nearby, James cautiously looked around before giving a surprising outburst of energy. He squatted and lifted Caleb off the floor by hugging his lower thighs. Frightened at first, Caleb began chuckling while he somewhat relied on James' shoulder. He felt hard spanks on his hindquarters and he tried blocking it with his own hands, only for James to overpower him by removing his hands and continuing to smack it. This was their strange way of making the most of the times they got to spend with one another, especially when one would return from a risky search. Then, James began to twirl around as fast as he could. Once he stopped, he was shocked to see Yoshi spying on them from a distance. James' boots screeched to a stop and he immediately dropped Caleb to his feet. Caleb, turned to see what James was looking at and spotted Yoshi as well. Once Yoshi realized he was caught, he walked into the open with his belongings ready and packed away.

"You two are weird friends, you know that?"

Caleb played it off by ignoring the incident and turned to James,

"You guy's find what you needed?"

"Uh, yeah," James answered. He retrieved his bag, "Yoshi found some rope and a really important key. No bullets though. I just found two soap bars, toilet paper, toothpaste and some undies I think would fit you."

"Announce it to the world," Caleb said.

"Well, I'm ready to get the hell out of here so let me know when you guys are," Yoshi said as he walked near the exit.

James and Caleb went into one of the public restrooms and got themselves prepared in each other's presence. They took care of their hygiene and took bird baths with heated water in an old pot. Naturally, they _platonically_ played around with one another for a bit. It was physical, however, just nonsexual—whether they got to that part yet was only for them to know.

Caleb was prepared. All that was left for him to do was grab his items that were still waiting in the lobby area with Yoshi and James' possessions. James walked around the bathroom shirtless, moving his pecks to an imaginary song of Prince's in his head. Caleb propped his foot up on one of the urinals to fasten his shoe laces.

"Can you believe the odds of finding someone like Yoshi to help us?" James proudly said.

Caleb gave a heavy smile,

"Yeah."

Preparing himself for some more shit Caleb occasionally threw at him. He buttoned up his uniform, James took a deep breath,

"What?" James asked sharply, almost sickened by Caleb's passive aggressiveness.

"Hear me out…" Caleb placed up a hand, and calmly asked, "Do you really trust him?"

"This may sound weird. But…I trust him with my life for some reason," he said. Caleb laughed to his response. James continued, "Shut up Caleb, you just don't get it okay?"

"Wow, that escalated quickly."

"Am I lying? You're just a bitter, judgmental guy who swears the world owes them something. Yoshi's the first guy I can relate to and who can look at me as a son. Do you know how that feels?"

"I don't," Caleb said. After a long pause, he continued, "Then explain why he had a crutch when we first met him. He's been walking normal ever since the night after we met him."

As a Firefly, these were deceitful methods that Caleb was familiar with. It was used to always throw your enemy off so they could never know your full strengths or weaknesses. It always left them in a state of unawareness.

"So because he used a crutch he's a threat? Noted."

"You know, that's not what I meant…answer this: did you really want to shoot him when you first saw him? I sure as hell couldn't"

James wasn't making eye contact through all of this. Instead he was fixing himself up in the mirror,

"Maybe he trusts us. Don't you think he would keep doing it if he wanted to keep it up?"

"I even overheard when he said he lied about his son to gain my trust…who's to say he probably isn't doing the same thing to you? He probably never had one."

"And when do you plan on telling him that I'm a wanted soldier and you're a Firefly?"That response was enough to make Caleb shut his trap, "We hide things, Caleb. Not because we want to but because we must…for whatever reason. So, just leave it alone."

Without prolonging their discussion, James was fully clothed and exited the bathroom with Caleb following. Yoshi was back in the lobby, sitting in the set of chairs that was occupied by all their items. He was holding Caleb's katana by the scabbard. As he lifted it by the hilt, revealing the blade of the sword, he released it, letting it abruptly slide into the casing. Caleb eyeballed him as they all grabbed their things,

"Your blade is getting dull. You should sharpen it before it breaks."

"I haven't found anything that can."

"I would say get a brick. One of the smoothest bricks you can find. Moisten it up with some water, and sharpen away."

Standing up, Yoshi tossed Caleb his scabbard and grabbed his rifle.

* * *

It was somewhat of a cloudy day. There wasn't too much sun and the snow had stopped falling. There were barely any people left in this part of Colorado, which meant little to no Infected were around. Walking through the snow was a complete nightmare for Caleb because he had low top shoes, making it difficult to avoid snow from getting in his shoes. He made sure to walk through the snow very carefully to avoid wetting his three pair of socks.

"So, what's the plan?" Caleb asked, walking behind the two of them.

Yoshi stopped walking and pointed at a mountain that was far off in the distance and stretched on like a wall. Yoshi made it clear that the walk was a lot further than it looked since getting where they had to go required walking around the mountain. Walking around the mountain would reveal a valley. In the valley, was a terminal connected to an aerial tram. He explained that, what would take hours to walk, would take you there in minutes via aerial tram. Plus, walking would be impossible because the path led to a cliffside that the cables were built to go over. To Yoshi's recent knowledge the tram had to be operated from the control room by at least one person. Whoever decided to operate the tram cart for the passenger, will then be transported next by the passenger on the other end of the tram line.

"How do you know about this place?" Caleb questioned.

"I've tried getting out of here more than once. It's impossible to do alone. I've been here for months by myself, so its given me time to come up with a plan," Yoshi admitted.

 _Yeah, but it's so specific. How do you know if there's a cliffside if you've never been to the other side?_ Caleb thought to himself.

Yoshi was confident of how much of a solid plan it was. Hearing someone oppose his idea was the last thing on his mind. He walked off, leaving the two boys to follow, but before Caleb could even take a step, James looked over at him,

"Still don't trust him?"

Caleb gave back a deadpan stare, prompting James to walk off first.

* * *

It took about an hour and a half to get to where they had to go. Yoshi was standing underneath the terminal, messing with the circuit breaker. He flipped multiple switches hoping it would do _something_. It was their only hope,

"Is it on yet?!" Yoshi shouted to James, who was on the last set of steps.

"Nope," He responded back.

Yoshi returned to play with the switches,

"Wait! Flip it back to the way you had it," James said.

Yoshi did as he was told and received a smile from James overlooking the handrail.

"What the hell does that mean?" Yoshi said looking up at him.

"A few lights came on."

As James headed into the terminal, Yoshi calmly followed. Yoshi took notice of the skies that turned overwhelmingly darker, foreshadowing an incoming storm. The terminal sat on the other side of the mountain, almost built into it. Its stairways spiraled upwards and led to an opened entrance, welcoming anyone who stumbled inside. It was like standing in an incomplete house with a slanted ceiling. It looked like it was meant to have four walls, but lacked one—opposite the entrance. The floors elongated out beyond to two separate left and right platforms. Obviously, the platforms were used for passengers to board the aerial tram. The trams, however, were nowhere in sight. That's where Yoshi stepped in. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key he found earlier,

"James," he said, getting his attention, "Follow me."

James obediently listened and was led to a separate, elevated area in the terminal. The door was labeled 'CONTROL ROOM'. There was a small glass window that was already broken through. Yoshi put his hand through and twisting the knob from the inside. With the help of James, they pulled open the heavy door. Yoshi fixed his backpack on an office stool in the room and took out a manual,

"Okay. It's simple," Yoshi said, rotating the manual, "It's like the ignition to a car."

James watched closely as Yoshi demonstrated every step. He entered the key into the port and twisted it. Once few of the buttons in the room lit up, he proceeded to press the green button. A loud, gnawing noise was heard. It was rusted cogs, but the cables were operating properly. There were multiple buttons on the control pad, but James understand that all he had to do was focus on the green and the red buttons.

James looked around in amazement,

"How the hell does this place still work?"

"They probably shut this baby down the day everything went to shit and reserved some power. Anyway, there's no way to reverse it from here. So, once we reach our stop I'm going to need you to make sure you stop it. Once you stop it, Caleb and I will get off on the other side and operate it from the other end for you to board, understand?"

James nodded and found a pair of near-dead walkie talkies in one of the cabinets. As Yoshi exited the control room, Caleb entered,

"Why can't _he_ just operate it from here?" Caleb whispered, leaning on the doorway. James glared at him, forcing him to clarify, "I didn't mean it like that. It's just…I'd prefer being with you. Why don't I stay here?"

Flattered James knew that was unacceptable,

"He's gonna need your help down there."

"Fine," Caleb sighed, "See you on the other side."

Before he could leave, James grabbed him by the wrist and gently pulled him in to kiss his cheek. Backing away for only a second, James pulled him back for a peck on the corner of Caleb's mouth. They exchanged their goodbyes and James watched Caleb from the glass window he sat behind. Peering from where he sat, he saw one of the trams becoming visible through the light flurries of resumed snowfall. Pressing the green button at the correct marker, the tram was stopped in a correct and safe position for Caleb and Yoshi to enter.

"Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3," James heard from his walkie.

"Copy," James responded.

As Yoshi carefully opened the door, there were five fully decomposed bodies. Yoshi took initiative and tossed the bones out the small cracks and openings of the tram. Caleb kept his distance once he noticed it teeter back and forth from Yoshi's every move,

"Are you sure that thing is stable?" Caleb asked.

"There's only one way to find out."

"Uh-uh. Hell no."

"Caleb," James was heard through Yoshi's radio, "If you want to get the hell out of here, get your ass on that cart."

"Wow, a guy like you is afraid of heights?" Yoshi poked, hoping to do some reverse psychology.

"What?" Caleb said furrowing his eyebrows, "No. Correction: I'm scared of plunging into a valley in an old cable cart."

"Caleb…" James' groaned over the radio again.

From where Caleb stood, he looked up at James motioning him to enter the tram. Caleb took a deep breath and jumped into the tram. He immediately dove into a seat and held on for dear life while it shook a bit more. Yoshi closed the door behind Caleb and gave James the thumbs up. James hesitantly pressed the green button, praying that Caleb and Yoshi would look out for one another.

Initially, the cart took such a long time to arrive, but strangely departed in a matter of seconds. It was nearly devastating to see their figures disappear into a cloud of snow.

"How is he?" James asked.

"Eh, he's calmer than he was before," Yoshi replied.

"Can I talk to him?" James asked.

Without any answer from Yoshi, he heard Caleb's voice,

"Hey."

"Hey!" James said cheerfully, "How's it going?"

"It smells weird. I just hope this…goes fast so…can…to…"

James had a tough time making out Caleb's words between the harsh noises of static. It was unfortunate and probably the worst timing. He repeated calling their names.

"Connection…Con…tion—James…later…" he heard Yoshi say, "Talk…ater."

James sat back in his chair, slightly stressing out.

Caleb was beginning to panic at this point, but did a remarkable job at concealing it. We were all human and it was impossible to hide stress and anxiety, but there were techniques. Instead of normally shaking his leg, he put his hands in his pockets and fidgeted with his fingers to cope.

"Didn't you say that the tram would keep rotating if he can't stop it?" Yoshi didn't answer, "Yoshi," Caleb called out again.

"Don't worry about it. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Yoshi wearily looked at him before answering,

"Do you trust me, Caleb?"

Caleb hesitated,

"Sure."

"Hm, then don't worry about it. Once we get down there, we'll figure something out."

Caleb didn't give any indication of acknowledging what he said. Instead he decided to sit on Yoshi's side of the cart instead of having to awkwardly sit across from one another and purposely avoid eye contact.

"How long have you known James for?"

"A couple months now."

"Really? I would've thought you guys knew each other longer. Like childhood friends or something since you two are oddly close."

"What's so odd about it?" Caleb asked, leaning forward with his hands cupped between his legs.

Yoshi shrugged,

"Like, don't take this as some weird pairing or anything, but you guys act like a couple half the time."

Caleb raised his eyebrows and gave a tightlipped smile with a subtle nod.

"Oh…" Yoshi finally understood, "That explains it."

"You've been a major cockblock, but it's okay," Caleb joked. The two them surprisingly shared their first laugh with one another. That's when Caleb thought it was appropriate of him to come clean. He was convinced by James that he had been acting foolish, "I didn't trust you at first," Yoshi didn't know what to say to that, and it made sense to Caleb that he didn't, "James really trusted you...and I trust him. So, I guess I should apologize to you."

Yoshi nodded.

"It's okay," he said.

He turned his gaze back to the windows, noting that the snow was beginning to pick up. On the opposite set of cables, they noticed another tram working its way back up the valley. However, it was completely tilting downward. It looked like it was becoming loosened from the cable and, just as predicted, the tram lost its grip and crashed into the powdered trees down below.

If the tram was in mint condition, it would've been James' ticket down instead of now having to wait for Caleb and Yoshi's current tram to return.

* * *

Finally, the stop was closing by. Yoshi made sure to grab his [empty] rifle and stood up once the tram passed its last pylon. Pressing his nose to the glass, he looked down at where they would be getting off. Caleb, walked beside him and examined the perimeter. Instead of there being a terminal like the one they started off at, it was a bus terminal that forked off into a freeway. In the parking lot was two coach buses, one damaged from being set ablaze sometime in the past. Waiting at the end of the cable was a box like booth, and someone was clearly inside of it. Caleb reached over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of his sword

"Don't," Yoshi said opening his palm at his side, "I'll take care of this."

Caleb's hand was practically tightened around the hilt of his blade, but he did what took a significant amount of effort to do: trust a stranger. He knew acting irrationally had consequences. As Caleb watched closely, it seemed that the man was operating from inside booth. In the stranger's hand, he held up a walkie talkie and spoke into it,

"Can you hear me?" The stranger asked.

"Yup. Now just make sure that when it passes the mark..." Yoshi said.

"I know, I know, I hit the green button."

Caleb was frightened by the familiarity between the two men.

"Yoshi?" James' clear voice interjected, "Yoshi, who was that? The cables stop moving, what do I do?"

Reacting instantly, Caleb reached for the walkie, but Yoshi placed his arm out—almost defensively. He gave a patronizing smile and proceeded to pat Caleb's back, almost like he was a troublesome child.

"Oh!" Yoshi forced charismatically, "I didn't think you'd be able to contact us from here."

"Yeah, same here," James said, pausing for segue, "Anyway, who was that?"

"Don't worry about it James, I'm going to be sending the tram your way any minute now. Caleb and I will be waiting for you."

Caleb's eyes never left Yoshi as he walked from the glass to the opposite end of tram. He unlocked the door and exited. Looking through the partially fogged glass, Caleb could see Yoshi and the man engaging into a natural conversation. Caleb cautiously moved to the exit and tried to listen closely through the whistling winds of the storm. As his hearing focused, he began to pick up a couple of words,

"…how…works. I was scared you wouldn't see the signal…funny…I didn't want to keep it up too long," the man said.

"…Woke up before they did," Yoshi responded, "HEY, CALEB!" He summoned.

Caleb lifted his head. He hadn't been in a situation, where he was so unsure of what was happening, in a long time. Not able to be guaranteed a way out if anything went awry was most terrifying to him. Caleb walked out of the tram and stood beside it, hesitant to leave its side. Yoshi motioned for him to come over.

The stranger was a tall built white man with shaggy hair up to his neck. He had pink wrinkly skin, and his eyes were dark and narrow. Everything about him was narrow: Eyes, head, lips, and nose. He was odd looking. He wore a cowboy's hat, was layered for the weather, and had no handgun in sight. Caleb composed his body language to seem more confident and walked over to them. Yoshi started,

"This is Caleb. Caleb this is…"

"Scottie," the man completed with a hick accent, extending out his hand.

Caleb stared at it. Yoshi immediately felt disrespected,

"Caleb!"

"It's fine. Don't worry 'bout it. I don't blame him for havin' his guard up. If you're wonderin' who I am, he and I were in the navy together. Been best buds ever since," he said. Yoshi crossed his arms, looking more pissed than Caleb had ever seen him. But Caleb didn't give a damn. Scottie spoke to Yoshi, but kept his eye on Caleb just in case, "Look, I got the bus ready with some things. Why don't you just go 'head, and I'll show Caleb the controls in the booth."

Yoshi walked off, looking back every couple of seconds, while Caleb stared back. Scottie took a couple of steps into the direction of the booth and realized that Caleb wasn't complying,

"Come on. Don't worry about him," Scottie wisely said. Caleb remained silent, looking at Scottie once Yoshi vanished into the bus, "What do I have to do to get you to trust me?" He unclipped the walkie from his pocket and offered it to Caleb, "Why not call your friend so we can pick him up? We don't want the power to run out or nuffin. He must be wonderin' where you are."

Although Caleb felt lied to in the long run, it was an offer he couldn't refuse. He took a couple of slow steps and retrieved the walkie talkie. Something in him changed the moment he touched the walkie, and Scottie felt it too. It was his life line.

As Scottie walked away into the booth, Caleb remained in the snow. He touched the call button and lifted it to his mouth,

"James," he shivered.

"Caleb? Hey," he said, sounding relieved "Are you guys sending the tram or what?"

"Yeah. In a minute."

"Who was that guy? Interference probably?"

"Ha," Caleb mocked, "Turns out Yoshi had a friend here waiting for him the entire time. Some country bumpkin he knew in the navy."

"…What?" he paused, "Why didn't tell us?"

Caleb looked up at the cables that led miles back into the valley's cliffside overhead. It took a lot in him to not say 'I told you so'. He shook his head in disappointment.

"I don't know, James…" He sighed, "I don't feel safe."

"Where's Yoshi?"

Caleb turned back and looked at the bus and came to a realization,

"Shit, I forgot he has the other walkie."

"It's alright…just sit tight. If all goes as planned, I'll be there soon. Love you."


	27. Chapter 26 - Closer

James walked back and forth in the terminal with his assault rifle in his hand and a lot on his goddamned mind. He checked the clip of his assault rifle: twenty bullets. He then reached back and checked the clip of his handgun: He was armed with twenty-three bullets altogether.

"This is bullshit," he muttered to himself, putting it away.

He walked out unto the platform, to observe the elegant snowfall. Snow was a wonderful thing to look at, but mother nature was almost like a femme fatal that could lure you in with its beauty, but if you weren't careful with what you took in, it could mean death. As he rested on the handrail, the structure wiggled and collapsed after a bolt became loose. James fell forward, yelling loudly and having the valley carry his screams. He clutched the handrail with one hand and held the edge of the platform with the other. His rifle's sling hung to the front of his boot. James groaned in frustration and fear as he clung unto the edge. Like monkey bars, he swung the other arm over to the edge of the platform before the rest of the hand rail could fall and become swallowed up by the pointed trees below. James could've easily pulled himself up at this point, but it was the assault rifle that had him concerned. James knew that a breeze could risk him losing the assault rifle forever. How unlucky could he have been for all to this to be happening; the one time he needed it the most. He muttered a small plea while looking down at the rest of his dangling body. Slowly, he tried lifting a leg to grab the sling, but it was impossible to reach. However, the more energy he spent trying to get the rifle, the more his grip began to give in.

James knew his limits. If he tried to reach down while holding on with one arm again, he'd end up getting wrecked by the trees below.

"Shit!" He yelled.

His eyes watered once he decided it was best to pull himself up. With one movement of his leg to get his knee unto the platform, the rifle fell to the depths of the valley. And even though he tried to catch it, his timing was beyond late. Fully bringing himself onto the platform, tossed himself on his back and huffed to catch his breath.

 _Three bullets_ , he thought to himself.

James convinced himself that what just happened was an inexcusable screw up as if he was in complete control over the laws of physics. He self-pitied himself and laid on the floor for minutes until he heard a sound from his walkie.

"James," he heard a familiar voice say.

He slid his palms from his face and carefully stood up far away from the edge of the platform. Carefully backing away, he turned and ran to the control room. Running up the steps, he quickly reached in and grabbed the walkie to reply.

"Hello?"

"Where were you? I've been calling you for the past five minutes."

James comfortably sat on the wooden steps,

"You're god knows how many-miles out there in a middle of a storm, Caleb."

"…Yeah," Caleb agreed.

"Is Yoshi there?" James asked excitedly.

"He's in the coach bus."

"Coach bus?"

"Yeah, there's a bus."

James found it a little hurtful that Yoshi hadn't bothered to speak with him, especially since he possessed the third walkie. But he wasn't going to admit that aloud. Instead he changed the topic,

"Well, you aren't gonna guess what just happened to me—I almost died."

There was a long pause. James assumed it was just another bad connection.

"…How?" Caleb replied.

"I-I, uh," James reached into his hat and scratched his head, "I fell over the hand rail on bridge. Obviously, I pulled myself up but I lost the assault rifle."

Caleb gave a notable _whew_.

"Who cares about the rifle. You're okay and I'm glad about that."

James smiled to himself,

"It was twenty bullets…but…I'm glad you're okay too. I don't think I've ever been separated from you this long."

There was a pause.

"Hey, is the tram there yet…?"

"You'll know when I stop it from up here."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later then."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

"Bye."

"Yeah...bye...for real this time," Caleb said with an smile clear enough to be heard.

* * *

Caleb placed down the walkie talkie and did a little thinking. He concluded that if Yoshi and Scottie really wanted to do something treacherous, they would've done it to him by now, especially since he was alone. He looked through the window and at the bus that was a couple of yards from where he was stationed. The bus wasn't on, obviously for gas-related reasons, but he was sure it was a hell of a lot warmer inside.

Although it was completely up to Yoshi, Caleb wouldn't mind at all that he and Yoshi rotate—this was Yoshi's surprising plan after all. Caleb hopped off from the counter and opened the door, intentionally leaving the walkie behind for whoever volunteered to take his place. He mildly shivered, carefully taking steps to avoid slipping and face planting. As he came closer to the bus, he noticed its drastic size. Lifting his fist to knock the door, Caleb's eye was caught by a dead Infected propped up against a glass window from the inside of the bus terminal. Frustrated at the possibly that those unwanted things return after such a lengthy period of peace, Caleb cautiously sneaked to the rear of the bus. The terminal wasn't that big, but it was a part of a small strip; combined with convenience stores and restrooms. Remaining alert, Caleb returned to the entrance and knocked the door. Within seconds, someone ran to the front of the bus and manually opened the door from the inside.

Caleb, startled by the unfolding doors, looked up to see Scottie and Yoshi armed. Scottie eagerly walked down the steps and stuck his head out of the bus. Caleb looked up at him strangely. Once Scottie noticed his reaction, he spoke,

"Sorry," Scottie apologized, putting his gun away, "Doesn't hurt to be safe. Where's your buddy?"

"He isn't here yet."

"So why aren't you at the booth in case he comes?" Yoshi asked from behind.

Caleb took a while to answer,

"I can see the cliffside from here. I could always run and stop it in time. I...I was thinking that maybe one of you could take watch while I warm up for a bit. It's cold. Besides, I didn't know that Scottie would be here…so I think you at least owe it to me to…y'know?"

Scottie turned his head to Yoshi and did a gesture with his face that Caleb could feel, but didn't catch. Scottie walked out of the bus and wrapped his arm around Caleb's shoulder. Yoshi immediately closed the door behind them. Scottie encouraged Caleb to walk with him and began speaking,

"Caleb…until we become something—and I mean…whether it's a group, accomplices, family… _whatever_ you wanna call it: We gotta to be servin' our purposes here, okay? I have no doubt in my mind that you're a skilled young man, but you're just gonna have to prove yourself useful, okay?" he rested his other hand on Caleb's closest shoulder, presumably to lower the blow, "Just for now. Do you understand?"

Caleb nodded,

"I guess."

"It might come across stuck up, but that's just how it was in the navy. When there was a team, everyone had a responsibility until it was checked off. So, I'm glued to that typa thinkin'," they stopped walking once they reached outside the booth. Scottie pointed at the bus and resumed, "See that bus over there? Ryu and I found it and the terminal two days ago, but we were separated and I did a shitload of the work just to get that bus up and workin'. I probably siphoned about over twenty gallons of gas by walking up and down that chilly ass freeway so many times—all without food. And yes…although Ryu might've told a little white lie, he still came up with a plan and got you and your buddy here safe and sound. So, all we're gonna need you to do is just sit here, keep an eye on the tram and then some. You got it?"

Caleb nodded throughout the entire lecture. As a result, Scottie politely held open the booth's entrance. Caleb walked in with his hands in his pocket,

"It must have been really tough without Ryu. I can sort of understand. I've never been away from James for so long, willingly at least. What happened?"

"Shit happens…" Scottie said, looking down in regret of a bad memory, "Well, call us when your friend comes."

As Scottie turned his back, Caleb called him again. After giving an exhausted sigh by the mere rise and fall of his shoulders. He turned around to look at Caleb. This time with an obviously pasted smile. Caleb felt that it was appropriate to come clean again, for the sake of having the others do the same for whatever future situations.

"The reason I never shook your hand was because Ryu never told me about you…"

"It's alright, kiddo. Don't worry about it."

Scottie turned away, but was prompted to look back _again_ when Caleb continued talking,

"Ryu also told us that he was in that airport for nearly six months…not two days," the forced smile on Scotties face vanished in a beat, "And his name's Yoshi. Unless he lied to us about that too."

It took Scottie a moment to soak up what just occurred. His inner conscious was beating himself over the head for not thinking straight. Afterward, he began to chuckle, perhaps from a nervous breakdown. Caleb on the other hand, was rejecting all of the bullshit. Feeling threatened, the inner Firefly in Caleb was beginning to reemerge and once Scottie noticed the shift in his body language, Scottie cursed at himself.

Scottie boldly sprung towards Caleb and easily wrapped both hands around Caleb's throat. Caleb's back was lunged into the booth's window with sheer force, cracking the thick glass way out to the corners. Forcefully pressing his other forearm against Caleb's chest, Caleb clenched his teeth while wincing in pain. Logically, Caleb swung his shin into Scottie's groin with two powerful kicks, being enough to weaken his grasp. Scottie repositioned his stance and tossed Caleb to the side and slammed him to the floor, tossing many of the appliances and items to floor along with him. Caleb was receiving flashbacks of the time he was almost murdered in Harrisburg. And as Scottie sat on top of him with both hands clamped around his neck, he envisioned memory snaps of Al. The booth was close-spaced, so there wasn't room to do much of anything. As tears ran out of the corners of Caleb's tightened eyes, he wrapped his hands around Scottie's wrists, hoping to pry them free, but it all seemed so hopeless. He could feel the life escaping him a lot quicker than it did the first time when he was attacked this viciously, and James wasn't nearby to save or resuscitate him.

It was hard to admit, but Caleb knew when he was beaten. He wasn't willing to give up, but he knew when he was beaten. It was far from the best, but he was proud to say he lived the life he did after meeting James. It was complete and utter shit after his brother's death, but it was different after he met James. He was proud with what he had accomplished: Finding someone who could trust him with their life and vice versa.

And as he watched Scottie, triumphantly smiling down at him, it was in that instant that Caleb realized if he didn't, there would be no story. He faintly heard something,

"Caleb?" James' voice was heard over the walkie, "I'm on the cart."

Caleb searched where the sound was coming from and spotted the walkie talkie to the top left of him. Caleb reached back, grabbed the walkie and swatted the bottom end of it against Scottie's face. A second blow was enough to get Scottie to let go, causing him to cover his nose. With the final, hardest blow, Scottie shouted and fell back to hold a sharp cut on his cheek. Due to the impact, the battery compartment popped open and the batteries rolled about like scattering insects. While Caleb desperately wheezed for air, he quickly sat up. Before Scottie could let a small bruise get to him, Scottie attempted to dive back on top of Caleb. The Firefly protruded his knee upward and gave a boot hard enough to hurt his own ankle. Scottie yelped, holding his face yet again. Frantically feeling around his waistline, he grabbed a very small handgun and aimed it Caleb.

Meanwhile, Caleb was given his golden opportunity to kneel and unsheathe his sword from over his shoulder. Pumped with adrenaline and sadistically pleased with the horrified look on Scottie's face, Caleb held the katana in a reserve grip and went blank. Attacking, he pierced the surface of Scottie's hand at the exact moment Scottie's gun went off. The bullet caught Caleb in the right thigh and, as a painful reaction, Caleb kneeled but unexpectedly stabbed Scottie through the foot as well. Scottie let out a painful yowl as Caleb left the blade in place. Caleb used his sword as he struggled to stand, impressed by Scottie's hand & foot kabab. Scottie reached forward with his other hand and tried grabbing the blade. He shouted in pain, jerking his now bloody palm away.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Caleb said.

"Fuck you!" Scottie hoarsely cried.

Caleb looked at the graze on his thigh. It was rather deep, and once he tried touching it, he pulled his bloody fingers away with a wince. Caleb grabbed Scottie's free handgun and threw it in his backpack. Lastly, he grabbed the handle of his katana.

Scottie, who was whimpering nonstop grabbed the hem of Caleb's pants with his free hand and begged to not have the sword removed. Caleb kicked his hand away and glared downward at him. Caleb yanked the sword out with ease from Scottie's sole. However, Scottie's hand lifted, still impaled by the katana. He roared in agony. Caleb shook and wiggled the blade out inch by inch. About seven heavy shakes later, Scottie's hand was free. When the katana was finally removed, Scottie attempted to escape. He managed to make it to his feet but fell head first into the door as he managed taking steps on a wounded foot. He quickly crawled through the snow, leaving a bloody trail in the snow. Caleb quickly limped after him,

"Please!" Scottie begged, "Please, PLEASE, PLEASE! I'M SORRY!"

Scottie held his hand out in defense and Caleb gave a horizontal swing that swiftly struck off four of Scottie's fingers, leaving only his thumb.

"AGHHHHH!" Scottie hollered in shock. He looked at his hand and couldn't help but sob, "AGGGGGHHHH!"

Planning to return from the swing to give Scottie his fatal strike, Caleb's head was whacked from behind. His body flew to the side as he lifelessly dropped to the ground. As he fell on the ice, his body slid against the rails that protected him from fall falling over the cliff side.

Yoshi tightly held his rifle and cautiously approached Caleb's body. Extending his foot forward, he tapped Caleb's shoulder—he was out cold. The tortured sounds of Scottie's sobs in the background grabbed Yoshi's attention,

"What the hell did you do, Scottie!?" Yoshi shouted.

However, Scottie was in too much pain and trauma to answer. Instead, Yoshi showed his colleague some sympathy and came to his aid.

* * *

James was sitting in the cart for a while now. He was sitting with his head in his palms, growing extremely impatient.

"Hello!?" James exploded.

"Hey, James," Yoshi's voice was calmly heard.

A smile appeared on James' face,

"Hey Yoshi," he silently celebrated, "Is Caleb near the controls? I'm waiting in the cart."

"Caleb's using the bathroom right now. But I'll press the button for you. Are you ready?"

"I've been ready for the past hour."

Without any type of response, the tram began moving. This was James' first time on a tram, so the sudden movement of him prompted him to tighten his hold around the pole once it started moving. Like crossing a frozen pond, James treaded to a seat and patiently sat down. Lifting the radio, he thanked Yoshi, hoping to seek some comfort from his new friendship, but Yoshi never responded. Having the entire seat to himself, James clipped the walkie talkie on his pants and kicked his legs up. He laid flat out on the seat and crossed his legs, staring at the roof.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, James' tram was finally arriving close to its destination. Satisfied with the trip and even more excited to see his beloved companion, James sat up after his tram came to a full stop. From where he stood in the middle of the tram, he could see the bus and the terminal in plain sight. The issue? The terminal looked miniature from where James stood. He could see the booth and bus, but he was nowhere close to it.

He pressed his face against the glass and examined his surroundings: The tram was dangling over thousands of feet in the air after the tram had _just_ happened to emerge from the valley. The distance between the valley's opening to the terminal was terrifyingly far, and it was the deepest drop James had ever seen. James paced back and forth in the cart, removing his hat for a little stress release. He grabbed the walkie talkie,

"It stopped."

"What?" Yoshi replied.

"I said It stopped! I'm stuck!"

"Hold on let…me try…to," he muttered in between grunts as if he was fidgeting with the controls. James could see the figurine's silhouette moving around in the box-of-a-booth down below. Yoshi was reaching for something, "Uh…so, it looks like the power finally died out."

"Died out?" James sighed, ready to punch a hole in something, "But…but w-what the fuck am I gonna do?!"

"There's only one thing you _can_ do, "James paused, listening for Yoshi's 'fatherly' advice, "James look at the cable. You're elevated from the terminal."

"I-I don't get what you're saying."

"Does the cable keep going into space or does it slant downward…?"

"Wait…wait! Are you suggesting that I freaking… _slide_ down there?!"

"There's no other option."

James gave a deep sigh and threw himself in a seat, causing the ram to shake back and forth. But James was used to that by now.

"Is Caleb there?"

"He's in the bus getting warm."

"Why haven't I heard from him? I thought there was three walkies?"

"You'll meet him when you decide to come down here," he paused, "And James. If you don't make up your mind…I'm sorry man but we can't wait for you."

James was bothered by how easily those words came out of Yoshi's mouth. He would've understood coming from someone else, but hearing Yoshi say it made James reevaluate their relationship a little deeper. If their positions were switched, he would've waited day in and out for someone like Yoshi—hell, he would've tried to do _something_. Even if Yoshi's gestures were welcoming and friendly before, did James take too kindly to them? Was he becoming that naïve all over again? This time, James didn't respond. Instead, he put his walkie talkie in his bookbag and grabbed his hat.

He examined the cables from the front and back: There were cables on opposite sides for transporting the trams back and forth, but each cart depended on about three cables. How to reach the top of the carriage required was a lot of thought.

James removed his denim jacket and tied the arms around his waist. He did a couple of warm ups, loosening up his muscles by rotating his neck, arms, and twisting his torso back and forth. After minutes and minutes of stalling with stretches, James had determined he was ready after he saw Yoshi, from afar, stepping outside of the booth with his belongings. Beside him was a narrow looking man. James inhaled then exhaled before boldly approaching an emergency exit through the back. He fought the rusted lever open, eventually kicking it open, he tossed himself backwards once a strong gust of wind flew the exit open and caused it to fly off.

The tram shook as he fell on his hindquarters, and he looked around frantically, praying nothing else would fall apart. He stood up, and stared at the exit as if it were face challenging him right back. He took a deep breath and approached the doorway. He looked to the sides and immediately reached for a thin ledge that did a wrap around all sides of the carriage. It was sort of like rock climbing, except it wasn't. Having his feet dangle, he searched tirelessly for a ledge his boots could use for support. His moist boots slid against the muddy windows of the cart, and he finally began panicking once he realized that he'd have no support to possibly help prop him up and over the top of cart.

To make matters worse, every frantic movement James made was enough to tip the cart over to his side bit by bit. The more he wiggled, shimmied and shook, the more the cart could slant back and eventually have him falling to his death—that was something he didn't imagine. To be honest, everything that was occurring was what he didn't imagine. Instead, James used the strength in his lower body to kick the glass windows in. He had to readjust the grip of his fingers since they jolted a little from the impact of every kick…but fortunately enough, after five kicks or so, a loud shatter was heard. The window was finally broken through. Shaking from fear and cold altogether, he used the opening of the window to rest his feet on the frame. As he stood on it, he noticed a significant difference in his position. His head was about the same height as the top of the cart and he hauled himself onto the tram by using every bulging muscle in his arms.

"Whoo!" he exhaled sharply to himself.

Wasting no more time, he stood up and realized his next step: The hanger.

The hanger was attached to the carrier and it was what transported the carrier along the cable lines. It took the shape of an upside down 'V' was a lot taller than he expected—eighteen feet taller.

"I see you. Just keep going, you're almost there," he heard Yoshi's voice.

James ignored the frigid breezes that caused him to shiver consecutively and cause his fingers to become numb the bone despite wearing gloves. He tightened the knot of his jacket around his waist and began climbing the ladder on the hanger. It was shaky, but that wasn't enough to stop him. As he reached the very top, he could feel slight bounce from the carrier. He remained in a knelt position and removed the coat from around his waist. He wrung it tightly, keeping the denim side exposed and the wool side hidden. He clenched each end in both fists and took one last exhale, realizing it was too late to turn back now. Slowly, James stood up and kept his eyes pinned at the destination down below.

Instead of starting from where he was, James took a powerful leap forward and soared through the icy air.

* * *

There was a chance that everything could go south both literally and figuratively. As James' powerful legs trusted himself into the air, he planned on shouting all the way down even if meant straight to Hell. He lashed his coat in a whip-like motion and it successfully made it as calculated (and it was probably just luck). His coat successfully arched above the cable and he successfully grabbed the other end as gravity began to return him downward. With the unknown assistance the snow, James held on each end of the coat and raced down the cable faster than his body could keep up with. His face felt like it was being prickled by small pins of ice as he slid through the snowfall. To be more aerodynamic, he used his abdominal strength to bring his knees to his chest and shift his weight in a position that wouldn't hinder his delivery in the end.

Considering his speed, he had to perform an early drop instead of letting go last minute. Once Yoshi picked up on this, he shoved Scottie and himself out of the way to avoid getting rammed into, because James was clearly no small child. At least three feet away from the destination's platform, James let go of one end of his coat and his body continued to launch forward due to his trajectory. Technically diving from over eighteen feet with added speed, he realized that this could've meant a serious, broken—possibly sticky—mess.

James shouted as he kicked through the air and roughly landed on the snow-padded cement. He rolled through the snow about six to seven times, and once he was finally finished, he was amazed to still be alive. His back wasn't severely hurt thanks to his backpack, but his lower half was in the most unimaginable pain. He struggled to even sit up, realizing to how fast his heart was racing. At this point, he was surprised that he didn't die on the way down.

"He alive?" Scottie whispered to Yoshi.

James strained to sit himself up and felt a sharp pain in his tailbone with every rocking movement he made with his pelvis. He groaned through his teeth once he made it to his feet and dusted himself off. Putting on his coat, he noticed a large tear around the shoulder area.

"You're crazy," Scottie commented from behind, holding his heavily wrapped hand in the other.

"I didn't think you would actually do that…" Yoshi said.

It was no welcoming committee, but James felt like he was a given a cold disappointment from the tone of Yoshi's voice. James touched his shoulder in pain, not sure of how to respond to the entire situation. As he thought long and hard to introduce himself to Scottie, he noticed his hand. Despite it being wrapped by bandages, it was agitating to look at. By the looks of it, it was very recent. He looked drunk, both with liquor and with harbored pain. His skin looked flushed red like it was bubbling underneath, his eyes were frantic looking and glossy and his cheek was swollen.

"What happened to you?" James pointed at his hand, "Did that just happen?"

"Idiot shot of his own fingers…" Yoshi said.

James noticed him exchange a prolonged stare at flustered Scottie.

"Oh," James simply responded while looking around, "Where's Caleb?"

"On the bus."

Yoshi began walking towards the bus and Scottie gravely limped after him, causing James to look down at Scottie's foot. He was taken aback by the amount of blood that seeped through the improperly wrapped bandage around his foot.

"Your foot," James exclaimed in surprise.

Completely aware of the reason behind Scottie's predicament, Yoshi didn't bother stopping, giving him a message that he was on his own with this one. With a bitter look, looked back at James and spoke,

"I shot myself in the foot too."

James limped a little quicker than Scottie, staunchly ignoring the pain in his tailbone with every step he took. The only thing he cared about seeing Caleb once and for all. Once they reached beside the bus, James was given the honor of entering the bus first. Unintentionally ignoring the two men behind him, he hurried up the steps and looked down the aisle. He assumed that Caleb was hidden and curled up on one of polyester seats, but after he reached the back of the bus, he realized something: It was obstructed with nothing but backpacks and supplies. He froze once he looked closely at it, noticing Caleb's brown backpack amongst them. He could've been wrong, but he traveled with the Firefly far too long to not know the little details that set it apart from other bags.

That's when James felt like it was time to stop playing along. That's when he realized that when your gut was telling you to expect the worst, expect it! Afraid to even face his enemies, James slowly turned to see Yoshi holding his rifle inches from his face. James stared into the abyss of its barrel and placed up both arms,

"Where is he…" James calmly said before gulping.

"Don't worry. He's alive," Yoshi answered back.

"If it were up to me that bastard would be dead," Scottie interjected, "Cuttin' off my fingers like that."

"What'd you do to him!?" James said, boldly stepping forward.

Yoshi pressed the tip of his shotgun against James's huffed-out chest to forcefully calm him down. The threat definitely did the job,

"I let your friend live because I like you, James. I already told you that you reminded of my son."

"Then, why?"

"I don't want to do this. Nobody _wants_ to do this. I thought you out of all people would know that? I mean, Caleb certainly did. But you? Man, I don't know what sheltered life you must've lived before all this, but I could tell from the get-go that you were a guy too friendly for your own good. Luckily for you, it paid off—unlike the previous owners of those belongings behind you, you might actually be the only two who walks away alive from all of this… _if_ you just follow everything I tell you. So just take off your book bag and leave your handgun. We only want enough supplies before we hit the road."

"Where is he?" James demanded.

Yoshi wasn't going to answer and neither was Scottie, who was near the steering wheel and visible over Yoshi's shoulder. James removed the shoulder straps and slid them down his arms. He carelessly tossed it on a seat beside him.

Yoshi motioned the tip of his rifle at his pockets. While James proceeded to feel around his back pockets for a pistol, he glanced back at Yoshi's firearm as he recalled an unforgettable tip from their search earlier that morning. That's when he unveiled empty hands by bringing them back to his sides.

"You know what…" James said batting his finger, "I don't remember you finding bullets for that gun on our search this morning."

"Don't do anything stupid, James…" Yoshi said, shaking his head.

James quickly grabbed the barrel of the gun and quickly managed to direct the barrel away from his chest. As James and Yoshi grappled over the weapon, James was easily achieving the upper hand. With his hand still taking ahold of the exposed barrel, Yoshi pulled the trigger, causing a ringing bullet to blow a hole through one of the windows. James yanked his hand away from the blazing barrel. His thoughts at the point should be self-explanatory to anyone who put themselves in his shoes. Yoshi struck James in the face with the wooden butt of his rifle and jammed the barrel into James' throat, bum rushing him to the cushion of supplies at the rear.

"SCOTTIE!" Yoshi shouted for backup.

Scottie nervously fidgeted around by retrieving his own gun from his pocket but had difficulty reaching it with his non-dominant hand. Using what fingers he had left, he pointed the gun in James, but the shot was too damn risky with Yoshi's body in the way,

"SCOT-SCOTTIE!" Yoshi, shouted.

"I don't have a clear shot!"

"Then shoot the other kid!"

Currently the epitome of his dream, Scottie looked down at his bandaged hand and foot and didn't even bother thinking as he made a quick U-turn to the exit. However, as he painfully stumbled towards the entrance, his deadening foot clung unto something and he plummeted from the top step. As he faceplanted into the frozen pavement, his handgun went off.

Yoshi was alarmed by Scottie's silence after the muffled gunshot went off. Taken off-guard, James delivered a headbutt just as Yoshi returned to face him. His face and nose throbbed and his eyes experienced saturated colors of what was already present. As he was dazed, James took the rifle and used the butt of the rifle to uppercut him in the jaw, giving him a taste of his own medicine (however, tenfold). Yoshi grunted as he flew back in pain and fell into a corner between two seats. James reached in his pocket and took out his pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Yoshi. Keeping the gun pointed in the traitor's direction, he backed up towards the exit, careful that Scottie would recover. However, his pool of blood, in addition to the amount of blood he had already lost, was enough to ensure his death.

"Where is he?" James returned to Yoshi's position.

"Just get it over with."

"WHERE IS HE!?" James barked, having droplets of spit fly from his mouth in anger.

Yoshi didn't bother answering, so James hesitantly fired the gun at his shin. Yoshi roared in pain as he felt the bone break in two; being hit in a sweet spot—luck on James part, misfortune for Yoshi. Blood splattered on breakage like a water balloon.

"Tell me, Yoshi!"

As James aimed at the other leg, Yoshi gave in by waving his hands around,

"Okay! Okay! H-he's in one of the stores bathrooms! I-I don't know which one, but Scottie put him in one of them!"

James didn't have the balls to pull the final trigger. As much as Yoshi showed whom he truly was, he was still a human in the eyes of James after getting to know him. James took the rifle for himself and exited the bus, stepping on Scottie's corpse along the way. First, he ran into a small convenience store, searching everywhere for what could be a bathroom. Even if the doors were labeled otherwise, he still checked. Next was a laundromat: James searched utility closets, employee rooms, boiler rooms, and finally went down into the basement's moldy restroom. Directly in across from him were three brown stalls.

"Caleb?"

"James..." Caleb answered weakly.

James started from the third stall, swearing that's where his heavenly voice came from, but it was nothing but a dead clicker with an aura of spores. Due to the freezing temperatures, spores weren't as active as they would usually be during the other seasons...but even the _slightest_ warmth could've made those spores take over the bathroom and infect Caleb. Moving on to the middle stall, he saw Caleb dangling upside with his arms and legs bound together. He was tied to a pipe from the ceiling. Teary eyed from the misbelief that that his boy was miraculously alive, he barged into the stall to try and lift his body upright. It was obvious that Caleb had been tied for some time, and hours of such treatment could render someone lifeless. James knew this because soldiers did it to 'criminals' back home as torture. Caleb probably would've suffered a brain hemorrhage before coming intact with a spore. But James wanted neither,

"I'm gonna cut you down, hold on," James said breathlessly.

James bent down and took the blade out from the holster around his ankle. He climbed on the toilet seat while Caleb hugged his thighs in case he was successfully cut free. Just as James was moments from cutting his ankles free, he was roughly dragged out by his collar and thrown to the ground. As James shook away the dizziness, he looked up to see Yoshi holding Scottie's previous handgun. As Yoshi was getting ready to fire the shot, he was distracted by Caleb's body flopping to the floor and shot into the stall as a reaction. James screamed while tackling Yoshi into a urinal at the far end of the room. Again, the little gun went off while it was simultaneously knocked out of Yoshi's hand. With Yoshi's body faltering to the ground in pain, James kneed two nasty blows to his face. Next, he grabbed Yoshi by the hair and began to slam Yoshi's face at the edge of the filthy urinal. Already marked with piss and feces, blood became its new decoration. Seven continuous slams later, Yoshi's face was entirely fractured and covered in blood. James slammed him to the ground seeing that he was unable to fight back, and began choking the life out of him. Yoshi was so far beyond weakened that he couldn't even lift his arms to reach James' face. According to his neck, his skin was turning fiery red but was unnoticeable from the traces of deep red blood on his face. As Yoshi let out his last breath, his arms flopped to the floor beside him. Standing out from the sidelines, James reached for a pipe underneath a stall and instantly began swinging heavy blows at Yoshi's face until everything inside of his head was exposed, oozing to the outside. The blood leeched onto the pipes and ran all over James shirt and face. Panic-stricken, he reacted to sudden clattering noises behind him. Turning he hauled the metal pipe in its direction. Caleb stumbled out of the stall and fell from the upsetting outburst, terrified that the James would turn into the James in Harrisburg.

The both exchanged stares for a long time before James could collectively piece together what just happened. James stared at his palms…shaking non-stop and hyperventilating. He looked at what use to be Yoshi's face, frightened by its forced disfiguration.

James' breathing became spasmodic as he attempted holding back tears. His eyes were pinned to one of his greatest monstrosities. Unmounting the corpse, he slowly made it to his feet and avoided slipping on blood. His shoulders were slouched and his face was rich, but in vagueness. He toddled towards Caleb, who remained seated from his fall. Looking at how hesitant he was to even be touched, was damn-near painful. Respectfully giving him time, he gave rubs of consolation. He rested a palm on the side of Caleb's face a gave him a long trembling kiss on the forehead while tightly closing his eyes. Pulling away, he continuously rubbed the back of Caleb's head.

* * *

 **SPRING**

* * *

There was a time where the boys thought it was impossible to make it to the other end of the continent on foot. Thankfully, it only took less than a year. On their way from Colorado, there was a complete change in the weather and atmosphere once you officially crossed over to the west coast. What was usually a gradual change in weather back home in Boston, happened in a snap in California. As soon as there was the first sign of sweat or perspiration, Caleb and James proudly ditched their coats and worn-out attire. There was no purpose for James' uniform any longer and Caleb was practically wearing rags older than a year.

James was standing on the roof of an old car and wearing something completely different. He proudly wore a long-sleeved, navy ribbed top with some dark denim jeans, more so because his top was a tad form fitting and just _perfect_ for the weather. Life was never a fashion show, but it felt good to look good in his opinion. He waited just outside a store they would normally look past—but not today, and only because today was a day to be celebratory for reaching their goal.

"What's taking you so long? Come out."

"This is stupid," Caleb responded.

"Who's looking?" James genuinely wondered.

Caleb exited the store by walking out into the open with a white cotton sweater and some black slim fit bottoms. For a change so little, James almost couldn't believe he was staring at the same person.

"Wow."

"Wow," Caleb mocked while approaching the car.

He reached down and grabbed his scabbard leaning on the side of the car. He carefully placed the sling of the sharpened tool over his shoulders and rested the object on his back. He carefully rested his backpack on it.

"You're like a different person," James said, squatting atop the vehicle, "Like, I don't know if this sounds racist or anything, but-"

"Careful…" Caleb narrowed his eyes.

"What?" James blushed, "I was just gonna say bright colors really bring out your skin tone. They look really nice on you."

The Firefly smiled,

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," James said, showing off a perfect leap to the pavement.

"I mean, I guess it is a little refreshing to finally see you out of that police uniform."

James' smile became halved as he nodded irresolutely. He fell into a strange silence with his eyes staring at the ground. Caleb glanced away from him, sensing that his remark might have been a little insensitive,

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you're right about that."

A military uniform or a badge was something that signified something important. It was more than just a piece of clothing; it was a title. James held on to that part of life for far too long, and as much as he didn't like to admit it, he couldn't even let it go after what happened in PA. He always believed he could redeem the military title, but it that something completely out of his control. It took up until now for him to realize that the only thing capable of being redeemed was himself. He would just never know when it happened.

It was still unbelievable how both of them started off as rivals and ended up as trusted lovers. James thought things like this happened in those gross romantic novels that widowed women loved to read so much, and as corny as it sounded, it was satisfying when you actually lived it. Others might disagree, but it was rightful justice in their eyes, but in a poetic way. Caleb definitely learned from his ways, as did James.

Later that night, they suggested burning their old clothes over a campfire as a way of resetting their lives. Sitting on opposite sides of the campfire, they were entranced by the sudden change of their clothes: Transforming into ash and merging with the cinders that made it all the more insignificant from this apocalyptic plane. It was like setting their former, miserable selves free. In their eyes, it was like turning over new leaves.


	28. Chapter 27 - San Francisco

James couldn't keep his eyes off Caleb. Not for perverted reasons or reasons regarding his alluring attire, but because he knew that, soon, it would be the last time he ever saw him. Caleb possessed a natural pep in his step and usually walked ahead until he was called out on it. With his natural speed, plus the yearning for sanctuary, he was like a roadrunner. With the map in his hands, he suddenly stopped. This gave James a chance to catch up behind him.

"What's up?" James asked, leering over and resting his chin on Caleb's head-bed of curls.

"I'm so close, James," Caleb said with a smile, looking up at him.

"Yeah…" James nodded. Caleb's smile deteriorated at the sight of James' modesty, "Can I ask you something? A favor, if it's not too much, before we separate?" James said.

"Sure," he answered reluctantly, "Anything."

"I want to cross the Golden Gate Bridge."

"Golden Gate Bridge?" Caleb repeated, looking around indecisively.

James paused,

"Isn't that in California?"

Caleb nodded,

"It is, but that means we'd have to circle from where we are now," Caleb said. He showed him by tracing his finger along the map, "It could take the entire day."

"It took us nearly a year to get here Caleb…what's one more day?"

"Yeah," Caleb nodded, properly folding the map and returning it to him, "I guess you're right."

"Ohhh, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!" James said, lifting him into the air and spinning him playfully.

A crooked smile reappeared on Caleb's face, attempting his hardest not to laugh hysterically at what was often done to him whenever James was given what he wanted. As his shoes touched the pavement again, James continued to smother him in loud smooches all over every inch of his face. Once he was finished, Caleb remained with his eyes shut until he could peek through one eye,

"Are you done?"

"Yeah," James giggled.

* * *

It was the following morning and James' dream come true. The Golden Gate Bridge looked exactly like it did in his magazines, except it looked even better up close. It was rumored that the perfect time to look at it was when the sun was setting, because the orangey-bronze really stuck out. James could feel the elation build up within him as he walked on the sidewalks of the bridge. Like a giddy child, he looked up in awe as the towering structures slowly became closer and closer. His mouth hung open, as he looked over the sides and watched the drop to the bottom waters.

Caleb held his breath the entire way there, afraid the bridge wouldn't still be intact. He turned around, waiting for James to snap out of his bewilderment and catch up. James walked backwards and sideways, stumbling over things that could catch anyone's attention. Lastly, he bumped into Caleb, but even that wasn't enough to grab his attention. He continued walking ahead, caressing the railings with his dirty palms, eventually stopping in his place to look out into the ocean that seemed to span on forever ahead.

"It takes about a mile to cross this bridge," James randomly dropped.

"How do you know?" Caleb asked.

"Magazines," they both answered.

While James silently chuckled through his nose, Caleb playfully rolled his eyes at how well he knew the answer.

"I read it looks even better at night because of the lights, but…there isn't any power," he paused.

"Yeah," Caleb said, bothered that it wasn't completely fulfilling.

"But it still feels great to be so far from danger. It's almost relaxing knowing that we have no imminent threats for the time being, right?"

Caleb inhaled and bit his bottom lip,

"We can stay here for a while if you'd like. But, not for too long, y'know?"

"Caleb," James said looking straight out into the ocean. He took one deep breath and proceeded to look over at him, "I have one last favor to ask you since it's the last I'm going to be with you…" Once Caleb raised his eyebrows as a sign of preparation, James continued, "Don't let this be the last time I'm going to be with you…"

Caleb lowered his eyes and began to woefully shake his head,

"Why are you doing this to me?"

James straightened his posture, still leaning on the railing,

"Doing what?"

"You dropped me here! You dropped me all the way here just to ask me to stay with you?"

"I was too scared to ask before…but seeing that you're just a mile away from home, I can't be scared anymore. I'm more scared of being away from you."

"Then why can't you see that that's why we have to do this?" Caleb felt worse by the sight of James' reaction; he searched for the right things to say, but nothing combative was coming to mind, "I thought you knew that after what happened in Pennsylvania. I couldn't leave you alone and it almost got us killed— _me_ killed!"

James briefly closed his eyes, as if he was trying to hold in the yell from a stab. He replied after the moment was over,

"You're right, and I know no amount of sorry's can ever make up for that."

Caleb shook his head,

"I'm over that. It's just…you're an ex-soldier and I'm a Firefly. It's forbidden that we even breathe next to each other."

"So, what are you saying?" James asked. He blinked repeatedly, lips trembling, terrified by both his own question and potential answer, "A-are you saying you don't…" he paused and furrowed his face, "Are you saying you don't love me? Is that why it's so easy?"

Caleb's grew upset. The sound of 'love' coming out of James mouth made him struggle to answer,

"If it means making things safer for us, then yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

"I know you don't mean that," James wisely said.

Caleb, looked away, wanting to scream his vocal cords bloody,

"Take ten minutes. Then we're separating."

"I'll drop you to the quarantine zone first. I want a proper goodbye."

Caleb turned to hide the incredibly obvious pain. He wiped below his eye with a fist and walked away. James, fairly did the same by reverting to a position where he fully relied on the railing for support.

Although Caleb said ten minutes, it felt more like half an hour. But just as James promised, he remained glued to his companion as they resumed their walk together. Regardless of everything that just occurred, Caleb was still someone who he would always consider his best friend.

* * *

This was finally it. After crossing the bridge, Caleb immediately noticed signals only a Firefly would know. He saw symbols painted on billboards, sprayed across the sides of cars and white markings smudged on street signs. James was rather suspicious of how Caleb knew his way around so well, but didn't bother asking after what went down back at the bridge. The entire walk was a quiet one. They navigated to the west of the San Francisco and followed a main boulevard, eventually making it to a city labeled 'Outer Richmond' on their map. The walk had taken them over an hour with some breaks included. It was already evening and within a couple more hours the sun would begin to sink. If you were a smart survivor, you would know that night was dangerous. Just like how the moon's shadows shifted, so did its loyalties.

Momentarily mesmerized by the forestry on both sides of the road, Caleb paused once something caught his eyes. He halted and tried peering through the openings of the crowd of trees. He wasn't too far—he could vaguely see the large metal gate being guarded by some unfamiliar faces. Just a few more feet and Caleb would walk out of a winding path that would lead to the Firefly zone.

"What is it?" James asked.

Caleb couldn't even face him. He briefly looked over his shoulder and back at the trees,

"We made it."

James only nodded, wanting to correct his use of 'we' to 'you', but he swallowed the temptation away. Before all of this, the boys thought this moment would feel like a resolution to their past problem, but it still felt like nothing was accomplished. They thought they had defied all odds—Firefly and Military working together. Forming a friendship. Falling in love. But they all felt like smaller parts to something big.

Caleb took a deep breath and continued walking down the street that would eventually expose them and lead them to the city entrance, but James didn't follow. He took a step or two, but stopped. He wasn't sure if that was his cue to turn around and walk away, but he felt hurt. He would've cried if Caleb didn't stop to turn back and face him. About eight seven away from one another, James spoke with a shrug,

"So that's it?" James asked, angered.

"What?" Caleb asked, genuinely confused.

"You were going to just leave without saying goodbye because you're still mad about that stupid argument on the bridge?"

"I thought you were coming," Caleb calmly replied walking closer to him. This time around, his attitude was definitely different.

"No offense Caleb, but I don't think they would be exactly happy to see me."

"They don't even know who you are!"

"They will once you have to explain your story to them."

Caleb softy scoffed and shook his head,

"Just come with me. Please," he lifted his hand towards the air, "It's almost past afternoon; you can't be out here. Plus, I thought you wanted a car."

"The bridge is cluttered."

Caleb insincerely chuckled,

"There's other roads, James."

Truthfully, James was making up excuses for one good reason,

"Listen closely: A military soldier shows up with a Firefly to a _secret_ base they have in San Francisco."

"So what?" Caleb shrugged.

"Cut the shit, Caleb. You know they wouldn't let me leave there alive with that information."

Caleb gulped,

"But if you joined us, they'd give you the freedom to. Just say you want to join and then leave when the time comes."

James exhaled sharply, trying his mightiest to remain calm. He wasn't going to be placed in a similar predicament again. It was always battle of the sides, no matter what side it was. It was sickening and exhausting to James and Caleb should at least feel the same way for their own safety. James placed his hands on his hips and turned his back to Caleb. All Caleb could do was watch in disappointment,

"You were just going to bargain with my life like that?"

"No, you...you don't get it, okay? You're with me," he referred to himself by resting his hand on his chest, "If they respect me, they wouldn't do that."

"You think a little street cred and respect is gonna do anything?" Caleb's eyes looked away, because both he and James new the answer to that. It was obviously false. James blew out some air, "Let's just get this over with," once James lazily let out his arms for an embracement, Caleb didn't move. Feeling disrespected by this constant egotistic tug of war between them, James finally decided to be the bigger person and walk away. "Fine. Bye," James held up the peace sign to his chest and walked away.

"James…"

James began to stride, praying Caleb would run after him. Unaware the prayers could be answered so quickly, he heard footsteps behind him and a tug on his arm. He looked down at his fingers, delicately being pulled by Caleb's. He looked over at him, seeing a different type of pain in his eyes for the first time. It was becoming more and more clear that neither of them were ready for this day.

"Don't go, please," he whimpered, "You just have to trust me on this. I know Marlene personally, she's head of the Fireflies and she's a mother to everyone. She was with me when my brother died and she'd be by my side with this. You just have to wait here a couple of days so they won't suspect anything and gain your trust. They'll send word out to Marlene and when she responds you'll leave," he said. James thought long and hard after the mention of Ariel. After a long pause, Caleb resumed, "She's not as evil as the military made her out to be. It was all propaganda, I swear. She was there for me when my brother died and…and if anyone tries to hurt you…" he surely went to his last resort, "I'll fucking kill them and then we can leave."

Hiding his surprise, James grew doubtful with his last sentence. His expression changed entirely,

"Swear."

"Yes."

"That wasn't a question. I want you to swear."

"I swear," Caleb answered, catching his breath after his extensive talking.

A heavy smile appeared on James' face as he lovingly opened his arms one last time and Caleb dove into it. James tightly wrapped his arms around him and sensually kissed his forehead a couple of times while stroking his fingers through Caleb's mane. As they bravely decided to reveal themselves, they closed in on the zone's gate and was immediately noticed by the one man patrolling the entrance. He looked absolutely horrified and, even before that, he was pacing around like he was deep in thought. He was jittery and was obviously nervous about something; probably patrolling alone.

Caleb and James placed their arms into the air,

"We aren't enemies, we're..., " He paused, "...I'm a Firefly. My name's Caleb."

"Caleb?" the man repeated, somewhat relaxed, "How do I know you aren't lying?"

Forewarning that he would be reaching inside of his book bag, Caleb pulled out the wanted poster that he had been carrying since Pennsylvania. It wasn't in the best condition considering all that it had endured, but Caleb's face wasn't hard to make out. James' portrait, on the other hand, had completely ran and faded. The Firefly returned the paper with a firm nod and lowered his firearm. With a deep exhale, he spoke with a relatively lower tone,

"I guess it really is you then..."

"How'd you know?" Caleb asked

"Marlene made sure to notify every Firefly base in at least five states. I can't believe you're actually alive. Only seven others made it back from that day. We all thought you and the others were dead by this point, military's been wiping us out ever since that shit you pulled in Boston…"

"It was my initiation to prove my loyalty to the Fireflies…It was a long and hard decision for me ever since I started seeing Marlene."

James' eyes widened by the mere mention of it. He looked over at Caleb and roughly grabbed his arm to pull him to the side,

"Initiation?"

Caleb yanked his arm away,

"It can wait."

"Who's he?" The Firefly asked, referring to James.

Caleb's brain raffled the number of lies he made up during the road to California. Without skipping a beat, he prepared to lie as if he could confidently pass a polygraph test.

"He's a stranger I met on the road. He helped me stay alive and in return—"

"I'm a military soldier from Boston. Well, was."

" _What_ the hell?" Caleb said through his teeth.

"I'm the one next to him on the wanted poster," James continued to 'fess up. In his mind, he believed that lying would get them into more trouble at this point. If Caleb said to gain their loyalty, that's exactly what he was doing by telling the truth, "I was ordered to kill him, but shit hit the fan for both of us and here we are."

Caleb bit his bottom lip and looked back and forth at the two men. He figured that he must have something to say or else James would end up with holes ripped in his body.

"I-I can explain…"

"You don't have to," the Firefly said, remaining composed.

"I don't?"

"No. You're alive, aren't you?"

With a deep, satisfied sigh, Caleb looked over at James and nudged him in the gut.

However, the Firefly's composure didn't last very long as he began to grow anxious all over again just like the beginning of their encounter—it wasn't normal, but it was noteworthy. Before letting them pass, the Firefly privately contacted someone over his walkie talkie and mentioned that it would all make sense later. As the gate sealed shut behind them, there was something on the other side fit enough to feel like punishment from a god: There were four military vehicles parked just a few yards away from the gate, blocking off the road that led to main community. To make matters worse, there were military soldiers walking around the streets with loaded guns, blessed with the presence of fearless Fireflies who were more than ready for a face off if things didn't go the military's way,

Shit…" James cursed to himself, "We gotta leave."

"We can't do that right now, try and relax..."

"Why the hell not?!" James whispered sharply.

"We're going to look too suspicious, just calm down. A couple of them looked over here already and we're lucky they aren't trying to ID us."

Still in arm's length from the gate, Caleb backtracked to it while James froze from what felt like an incoming stroke. He whistled to the Firefly on the other side and whispered once he grabbed his attention,

"Why didn't you tell us the military's here?!"

"Uhh," he tensely started, "Don't worry about that right now. I sent someone for you, they'll explain everything. Just like you, trying not to shit my pants right now. Because of them, I'm the only one out here, so there isn't time to explain everything."

Caleb sighed and looked back at James, who was still glued to the military transports. He returned his attention to his new comrade,

"So, when's the last anyone heard from Marlene?" Caleb asked, trying to awkwardly change the subject.

The Firefly mustered up courage under the guise of a deep breath. His face turned redder than it did before he could speak,

"Marlene's dead."

Immediately, Caleb's breathing picked up. His mouth fell ajar from a loss of words. James, who finally regained control of his muscles, unintentionally walked into the conversation and couldn't believe it himself,

"What?" James intervened, unable to understand, "How? Was it military?"

"What about the cure? The little girl?" Caleb said, dismissing James' insensitive and irrelevant question.

"A cure?!" James asked, feeling like a house was just dropped on him, "What the hell are you guys talking about? There's no damn cure."

"Marlene had one."

"The guy asked to bring her to Marlene was the one who murdered her. Shot her right in the head and disappeared with the little girl. It all happened at one of their bases in Salt Lake City."

"Man…" Caleb said painfully with a nervous chuckle. He threw his arms up in the air, "This shit just never ends, I swear."

"That's not all," the Firefly responded.

Suddenly, Caleb heard his name being called out from someone behind him. Turning around, he was stunned by the sight of Sheila, who had matured beautifully since they first met in preparatory school. She was wearing black slim fit jeans with a thin sweater with cream, beige, brown & black horizontal stripes.

"Sheila," Caleb greeted with a smile.

Sheila quickly put down a basket of fruits she was carrying and ran into Caleb's arms, nearly throwing him over. Unable to believe that he was tangible, she pulled away with her hands still rested on his shoulders. She softly touched his face and went back in for another hug. It was no secret that she couldn't look at him very long because she always thought of Ariel, but this time she was just glad to see one of the twins live life. Finally letting go of him, she looked over at James who was visible over Caleb's shoulder. Without properly acknowledging him, she sized him up and discreetly revealed her pistol in her back pocket,

"C'mon. There's a lot to fill you in on."

Sheila snuck the boys through a path that avoided majority of the military. Of course, there were other soldiers around the area, but Sheila had to do her best to avoid any type of attention. Once she reached an apartment entrance, there was a man in military uniform she had never seen before. He wasn't armed or anything, but she still thought it was best to avoid any kind of attention, even if it meant holding in a sneeze. But her idea of avoiding attention, wasn't exactly his. She motioned the boys to just follow her every move, but as she walked up the steps to get into her apartment, a broad arm blocked her path,

"Where's a pretty lady like you going?"

"I need to get into my apartment."

The soldier looked up at the two men behind her. James had no problem staring directly at him, but Caleb looked away for the sake of obeying Sheila's requests. He was a different person when he was around more than one trusting person. The Caleb that James had been traveling with would've stared until the soldier blended in with his backgrounds or slipped into nonexistence.

"With those two? You into that?" The soldier rudely asked.

Sheila rolled her eyes and readjusted the basket of fruit and bread underneath her pit,

"Can I just bring these upstairs? I have important matters to attend to."

"How about a deal? I let you pass if you let me join the three of you guys…" he paused, giving a smug smile at Caleb's grossed out reaction, " _Or_ …you can just give me something from that basket."

Purposely, Sheila reached into the basket without hesitation and presented the pear to his face. Still blocking her path, he took out a switchblade and dangerously jabbed it into the green fruit. He stood in her path and slowly carved into the side of the pear, slicing a thin piece and placing it into his mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head, having the juices audibly flow around his mouth and his cheeks. He gave the same mocking smile while slowly stepping aside. Sheila couldn't bring herself to look at his face or else her knuckles would've met his. She shoved right past him while Caleb and James immediately followed,

"Come looking for me in case they're boring, baby!" He shouted behind Sheila as he watched her vanish up the stairs.

Visibly angered by her inability to do anything that would probably get the entire militia killed, Sheila pressed her basket against Caleb's chest and dropped it in his arms. She searched for her keys and opened her apartment door. She stepped aside to let them in, and just before she entered, she could see the creepy soldier peeking through the staircase to a point where only the top half of his head was visible. Rolling her eyes with a heavy scoff, she slammed the door behind her,

"What's happened? Why are the military here?" Caleb asked.

"Shh!" Sheila shushed, "That guy is listening."

After the boys rested their belongings beside her doorway, she led the boys to her faraway bedroom. As she retrieved her basket and rested it on the dresser, she offered the guys a chance to sit on her bed,

"Have you heard about Marlene?"

Caleb nodded.

"I know she was close to you," Sheila sighed. Since Caleb didn't know how to respond, she cleared her throat and continued, "After she was killed, someone panicked like a bitch and squealed out most of our bases. The troops came barging in and now they're trying to call a truce, but I'm not buying it. No one is. We're planning something."

"Like what?" James asked.

Sheila's face changed at the sight of him,

"James, by the way," he offered a handshake.

"Can I speak with Caleb?" She asked, "Alone."

James looked at Caleb, who he figured would argue for him to remain in their presence, but Caleb respectfully obliged. Trusting that it would be the proper thing to do since he was a guest in her apartment, James stood up and exited the room without looking back. Sheila hastily closed the door behind him and pressed her ear up against the wall. James footsteps departed, hopefully taking him out of earshot. Regardless, she still whispered as she returned to converse,

"Garrison told me who he is…"

"Garrison?"

"The Firefly at the gate. What were you thinking bringing him here?"

"How was I supposed to know that military would be here?"

She began to pace,

"You're right. It's not your fault," Sheila sighed and looked at Caleb like she was building herself up for something. It was obvious, like her throat wanted to burst, "There's two military captains here…Wells is one of them."

"What?!" Caleb unintentionally shouted. Sheila shushed again before opening her bedroom door to peek at James. He was looking out the window far across the room. Quietly closing it back, she locked the knob. Once, Caleb noticed her reaction, he quieted down, "Well, did he recognize you?!"

Sheila shook her head,

"He hasn't seen me yet. And I plan on keeping it that way."

"Sheila, you don't understand. If that man sees me or James, he'll kill us."

"I know, and that's why we're planning something covert to get the hell out of here. Tomorrow night, we're going to use the underground tunnels and meet up at a neighborhood far east from here to discuss relocations. So, make sure you're ready."

Caleb nodded.

"Where's Zee?"

Sheila scratched her forehead,

"Zee, didn't make it on the way here…"

Caleb's paused,

"And her…"

Sheila shook her head.

"Damn it!"

Sheila wiped her nose and after a long pause, taking the opportunity to segue the depressing conversation,

"How'd you manage to make it this far?" Caleb alluded to James behind the door. Sheila found it hard to believe, "Did he have anything to do with the ambush?" Caleb shook his head, "Did you make a fucking trade or something?"

"He was ordered to kill me but he let me live," Caleb said. He evaluated Sheila's face, it kind of reeked with questions. She didn't seem upset, surprised, or happy; one of the three reactions he was expecting. Just in case anything began plaguing her thoughts, he said one last thing, "We got really close. Really close."

"Is he sticking around?"

Caleb shook his head with uncertainty.

"Then forget about him. Caleb…" Sheila sat on the mattress beside him. She understood that it would be a hard decision after all Caleb had been through, but it wasn't something she hadn't experienced. Apart from losing a sibling, she was still and orphan who had lost many loved ones. She reached over and held his palm, "We're your family now, Caleb. Now that you're here don't let what you did in Boston be for nothing. He can stay with us for now, but he's on his own after we leave. And before you do anything crazy, I need you to understand that the military would happily accept him if it meant seeing any of us dead. He may be your friend but he's a military soldier and he'll _always_ be one. Just like the rest of us, he was indoctrinated into that lifestyle. I bet my soul he'd trade you in if it meant keeping himself alive. To the Fireflies, your life is worth more than his," Caleb couldn't look up at her. She grasped his hands tighter and attempting making eye contact, "Caleb, do you understand me?"

Staring into his lap, he came to a firm agreement and nodded. He was prepared to let James go. Sheila patted the back of his hand and stood to open her door. Soft creaks notified James from the windowsill he rested on. He stood erect with his hands in his pockets, a usual sign of reservation or discomfort.

"You guys must be hungry?" she asked, punting a wedge underneath her bedroom door.

Remembering the left-over rabbit they shared for breakfast, Caleb was going to decline, but James was quick to accept the offer,

"Yes! Yes, please," James happily accepted.

* * *

Sheila returned with two piping hot plates and a large jug of apple juice naturally squeezed from her basket of apples with a hint of pear and cinnamon. It smelled absolutely mouth-watering and the boys had never seen so much meat packed into one plate. As she rested their plates on the table the boys wasted no time stabbing their forks into it. They viciously scarfed it down, ignoring the burns they felt on the roofs of their mouths. After a hard swallow and meat-stenched burp, Caleb spoke,

"I haven't had bacon is so long."

"The fried chicken is really good too," James said, before placing a large piece in his mouth.

"It's fried snake."

"Snake?!" Caleb said, poking the said meat around with his fork.

"By all means, if you don't want it..."

As James reached over with his fork, Caleb smacked his hand, followed by a laugh. A laugh golden enough to warm Sheila's entire interior. With her arms crossed, she reached up and held a mysterious heart shape locket in her fist,

"I'll be right back. Just throw the plates out when you're finished," she said, pointing to the trash bin. She exited her apartment and closed the door beside her. Just before walking down the stairs, she looked around to make sure no one was around, especially that weird officer from earlier. Unclipping her walkie talkie from the back pocket of her pants, she talked into it,

"Garrison."

"Yep?" He answered.

"Are you still outside the gate?"

"Affirmative Ms. Sheila."

"Don't call me miss…I'll meet you there in a minute."

"Copy."

With the walkie talkie still in hand, she rested the back of her hand on her forehead while remaining in thought for a brief period. Hearing more laughter escape from the bottom cracks of her doorway, she made her way down stairs after a stressful sigh.


	29. Chapter 28 - James?

It was the following day. James was trapped in Sheila's bathroom, but not against his will. The bathroom had to be, if not the cleanest, one of the cleanest bathrooms James had ever stepped foot into. You could notice a few chips and cracks in the tiles and porcelain, but only if you paid attention to detail, but it seemed like perfection when your eyes glossed over it. Sheila had mentioned before that cleaning was a stress reliever, but he never knew it was down to the grit. The fact that Fireflies were living in better environments and taking better care of themselves than the soldiers back in Boston or Harrisburg made James reevaluate his life choices. Thinking back to all the capitals that James and Caleb passed, there were barely any quarantine zones that were still operational.

It was one of those moments, where the smallest thing made you question the most essential things about yourself, like equating another's success to your own desired ambitions. He began to reevaluate his position and role in life, wondering if being military was the right choice. However, in today's world, you weren't given much of one. You were handed a gun, given a dog tag and tossed into military school as soon as your mother popped you out. You could decide what you wanted to do next, but unless you wanted a death wish. James stepped out of the tub and wrapped his towel around his waist. Holding the knot of his towel with one hand, he used the other to wipe away most of the fog on the bathroom mirror. James being James, immediately began checking himself out. With everything they had gone through, James had gotten significantly bigger. Notably his arms. Think of encountering infected as daily wrestling. Lifting both biceps, he balled up his fists and flexed. As he continued flexing, the knot around his waist finally loosened up and the towel fell around his feet. Raising an eyebrow, he slightly turned to check out his bum— _still perfect_ , he thought to himself.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

James panicked at the sound of those knocks. He quickly bent down, slamming his forehead on the edge of the sink. He yelped as he fell back, biting down hard to prevent himself from shouting the f-bomb. While resting his palms on his forehead, he finally reaching down and grabbed the towel. With the hurt still on his face, he opened the door and noticed Caleb,

"What?" James said quite irritated while keeping the back of his hand placed on his forehead.

"Here," Caleb said, handing him his clothes, "The people down by the lake washed and dried it for you. What's taking you?"

James grabbed his clothes with one hand and placed it on the toilet lid behind him.

"One of the many pleasures about taking a bath—no wasted water; just soaking in a tub full of water."

"Okay, well, hurry up. Lunch is on the table."

James smirked and slightly opened the door a little wider,

"I could use a little company in here."

Uptight for whatever reason, Caleb closed the bathroom door and walked away. James figured Caleb was in one of his moods again, and although it was an inherently sexist thing to say, he could've sworn that Caleb also experienced menstruation, except he got his every week. James locked the door behind him, changed, and eventually walked out shirtless. Caleb sat at the kitchen counter with an empty plate, finishing up a bottle of water. James approached Caleb and firmly rubbed just beneath the back of his neck,

"Hey," James said, gently kissing the side of Caleb's forehead, "Didn't see you all day. Where were you this morning?"

"Sheila showed me around today."

"Yeah?" James said uneasily.

"Mhm," Caleb nodded, "We're sneaking out of the zone tonight, so get your things together and get ready if anything goes wrong."

James didn't say a thing. Instead he walked towards one of the windows near the kitchen. Without having to push the curtains aside, he could see through the thinness of it. He watched over the public streets below. It was a functioning community that the Fireflies built and preserved all on their own, but there were military soldiers patrolling the area like it was now their own; like colonizers. He recognized the uniforms, and the sight of it on another person's body made him finally realize that it was something meant to strike the fear of authority unto others, because it sure struck him that way. The sight of a uniform no longer meant what it did to him when he was a student.

"Just when I was getting comfortable…" James purposely muttered.

"I don't like the idea either, but it's the only choice we've got," Caleb said. He looked at James' back for a while, "So, what do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know…" Caleb shrugged, "Us."

"I don't know. We fight a lot."

"No, I meant _us_ ; the Fireflies."

"Oh?" James returned to the kitchen to remove his black t-shirt from the counter. Quickly putting it on, he sat across from Caleb and uncovered his plate of food—corn, rice and more pork, "Too soon to tell," James laughed uncomfortably.

Caleb couldn't blame him for thinking that. Just as he was finishing up his bottled water, Sheila entered her apartment with a basket of fresh fruit. After placing it on the table, she pulled out a folded map from underneath. She pushed the basket towards the center of the table and unfolded the map, revealing writings and markings that led to the rendezvous. She leaned on the stool with her hands on her hip. She looked a little worked, having her sweat drenched bangs chunk together and stick to her forehead. With the use of her forearm, she wiped it away,

"You ready?" She asked.

"Yeah, let me just get my things," Caleb said, removing himself from this stool and throwing out his trash.

"What? Where are you going?"

"Out."

"I thought we were eating lunch together?" James asked, mid-chew with a fork clenched in his hand.

"Already finished."

James paused before speaking,

"Okay, well give me a minute and I'll be done in a bit…"

"Are you crazy? You're staying here," Sheila ordered. James looked up and looked over at Caleb, who looked too afraid to interfere. Sheila didn't hold back, "Right now, you're wanted by every soldier here. Maybe even some Fireflies."

"So is he," James replied in disbelief, worried for Caleb's safety.

Caleb and Sheila watched each other briefly before she could give him a subtle nod. It was Caleb's turn to address him, and he honestly meant no harm or betrayal by it,

"Don't take this the wrong way, James but I'm a Firefly. You're not. If anything happens to me, I can count on these guys to have my back. You? I'm not so sure."

"It's nothing personal," Sheila reassured.

James gave a soft exhale and reached across the table with an open palm. Caleb reached forward, having the back of his hand massaged by James' pressured thumb.

"I understand…"

James felt invisible as Caleb effortlessly slipped out of his grip and walked across the room without giving back any form of intimacy or farewell. He watched Caleb pick up his backpack, weapon and be the first out the door with Sheila following.

"Bye, James," said Sheila.

"Later."

Sheila lingered and looked at James as if she wanted to tell him more. As James prepared himself for another verbal blow, she swung the door shut on her way out. Sheila was kind enough to show him hospitality, but she was certainly the type of person you wouldn't want to be left alone with. Things would always become awkward when they were around each other, and when things become unbearable enough, Sheila would rudely be the first to walk off and lock herself in her bedroom. They had only been around each other for a day and a half, but they had weird encounters at least five times every hour, especially since Caleb remained in one spot for hours on end, mingling with other Fireflies. Whether it was bumping into one another in the kitchen or waiting until one was finished with the bathroom, what would start off as a insincere conversation always died prematurely.

After Caleb's departure, James daydreamed while he sat at the counter. He was bothered by the fact that it was only a day and this was the most abandoned he had ever felt by Caleb. From the time he stepped foot in the Firefly zone, it was a feeling he was unable to shake off. James thought back to time when he reached Harrisburg. Admittedly, he _did_ forget about Caleb's companionship literally seconds after stepping across the border, but that was because it was so early into their relationship. It was an asshole of an excuse, but still—he thought it should be different from the other side. For Caleb to be so comfortable with leaving him out, really stung. From the time they left Harrisburg, James was never okay with letting Caleb go. He figured that it would've been easier, but it ended up being one of the hardest challenges he had ever faced in his life. It was the only explanation as to why James would even jeopardize his life stepping into the zone and refuse to run after seeing military around. He knew it could mean his life, but he would trade it if it meant Caleb's safety in return; but he would fight until his fists bleed before it came to that.

With his food getting cold on his plate, James stared at his backpack in the corner by the dining room entrance. He wondered if this meant that it was time for him to go.

* * *

Hours later, Caleb and Sheila returned to the apartment,

"…That's what you thought of them?" Sheila said, continuing to pick up the conversation after unlocking her door.

"Just my personal opinion. Douchebags are everywhere."

"I promise you, you'll grow to like him. Don't you like the guns he stashed away for us?"

Caleb chuckled without giving a straightforward response. He walked around, searching the living room and even the bathroom for James,

"James?" He called out, searching multiple rooms.

Although it was never in his character to invade one's personal space, Caleb still searched Sheila's bedroom. Sheila took off her backpack and rested it one one of the sofas by the dining room near the entrance.

"Is everything okay?" She asked from outside her room.

Caleb exited and took a deep inhale before frantically speaking. He shook his head,

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that…"

"Do you think he left?"

Standing by her bedroom door, he leaned on the frame and nodded. Tight lipped, he turned his back towards her and placed his head down. What looked like the beginning of another depression, Sheila immediately walked behind him and rested both hands on his shoulders, peering in from the corner of his eye to look at him, it bothered her to witness Caleb experience another festering painful loss,

"Hey, hey, hey…" she comforted by rubbing his back, "Caleb, what's wrong?"

Caleb shook his head, too upset to even cry,

"How could he just…up and leave like that?"

Sheila moved in closer and rested her head on his shoulder,

"It isn't his fault, Caleb. Maybe he did it for the greater good? He knew that being here was a risk."

Caleb quickly gathered himself together, overcoming emotion faster than he ever had before. He stood straight and turned to face Sheila, causing her to lift her head and directly look up at him,

"The least that jerkhole could've done was say goodbye. That's just not his character," he specified.

"As far as we know…that character probably wasn't even really him, Caleb? Let's just be glad that he didnf't sell you out to them."

"Oh my g—Stop saying that!" Caleb slightly shouted in offense. After a moment or two, he relaxed and took on a calm tone, "You didn't know him like I did, okay? Only a sociopath could fake what we did for each other."

Sheila awkwardly stood there with nothing else to say. She shifted her eyeballs in another direction of the room and comfortably rested them there. When Caleb began to do the same, he noticed something: James' unfinished tray of food on the counter. He softly brushed past Sheila, causing her to slowly turn at the exact same pace. Caleb invested himself into the tray, realizing that only a quarter of it had been eaten and that it sat too close to the edge of the table. He touched it with his pinky; it had been sitting there for a while. Looking around even more for just about anything noticeable, he spotted a plastic spoon underneath the same stool James previously sat in.

Sheila gulped where she stood,

"What's wrong?"

"His food is still on the table…"

Sheila started off reluctantly, as Caleb kneeled to the floor to pick up the spoon. He rotated it in the hold of his delicate fingers,

"Maybe he just left in a frenzy?"

"No," Caleb said while shaking his head. He stood up and slammed the plastic utensil on the counter, "Something's not right. James wouldn't waste his food, not after what happened to us out there," he said. Sheila watched him as if she were fighting to not laugh. Caleb picked up where he left off, "Look, I know it sounds stupid, but I know what I'm talking about."

Sheila didn't understand what was happening at that moment. For someone who had an answer for everything, she was left speechless for some odd reason. Without waiting for a reply, Caleb grabbed his backpack as well as his katana on his way to the exit.

"Wha…" Sheila briefly groaned while rolling her eyes towards the ceiling in distress. She followed Caleb into the open to make sure she wasn't seeing things. She was sure she wasn't, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to look for him."

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Caleb!" Sheila said aggressively. She gestured with her hands as she spoke, "If you're recognized by any of those soldiers out there, they'll shoot on sight."

"I won't get see—"

Before he could finish his words, Sheila grabbed both of his hands with her own pair. She fought to make eye contact, following around his nervous gaze with the flowing of her head,

"Just stop and think for a second. You're risking your life stepping out there alone, understand? There's nothing more you can do for him. He's gone, Caleb…" Caleb painfully sighed hearing those words. Sheila continued, "We're gonna ditch this place pretty soon, so you have to stay with me and keep your head clear. _Maybe_ we'll run into him. He couldn't have gotten too far in a place he barely knows."

A previously tensed Caleb eventually became relaxed with the help of Sheila. Clattering his katana to the ground as well as his bookbag, he stomped off and locked himself in the bathroom.

* * *

There were sixteen soldiers at the Firefly zone in total. However, the sight of more than one soldier past midnight was rare. One could only theorize that after staying awake all morning, evening and afternoon; that the same soldier would give his bare minimum to patrol the streets at midnight.

It was currently two in the morning, and most of the Fireflies had planned to turn off their apartment lights around an hour before the attempt to escape. With all of the Fireflies seemingly asleep, the soldiers would allegedly have nothing to worry about. Sheila and Caleb sat on the living room floors all night, just waiting for their plan to finally be into action. Once it became zero two hundred on the dot, they checked all of their windows, checking to see if anyone unaffiliated was around the perimeter. Deeming the coast clear, Sheila got three quick knocks on her door, followed by a pause and one more knock: A signal to open up. Sheila opened the door and met the face of a very short woman.

"I got the signal; now it's time for you guys leave. I'm waking everyone up now," the short woman said. As she spoke, Sheila nodded and remained attentive although she retreated a couple of feet into her apartment to retrieve whatever possessions she needed, "Remember, everyone is meeting up on the zone border on Balboa Street, Nineteenth Avenue."

Sheila and Caleb fled the apartment in a matter of minutes and were already on their way down the stairs. They met up with another group of Fireflies at the bottom of the stairs, but the group broke off in pairs, flying in separate directions. Since Caleb was let in a little late on this escape, the only requirement was to blindly follow Sheila's every step and hope that he wasn't led to his own demise. She cowered to a set of undefined shrubbery, and easily lifted a small portion of it, revealing that it was settled there as a disguise. As the bush was lifted, there was a small crate with one remaining silencer. He didn't know the significance, but Caleb remembered a demand about not leaving _one_ silencer behind, because it gave the enemy an advantage if they had ever found one which could eventually lead to the screwing up of the plan. If the crates were empty, it meant every Firefly responsible of one had taken theirs. Sheila looked around and quickly attached the silencer to her handgun. Picking up her pace, she dashed through to the neighborhoods. Nearly crossing through one of the main streets, Sheila threw herself backwards. She flung her arm across Caleb's chest and slammed both of themselves into the side of one of the neighborhood houses,

"Soldier," she whispered.

Caleb panicked, but only because she was. However, after the sound of a recognizable 'pew', Sheila unexplainably became relaxed.

"Did you hear that?" Sheila double checked with Caleb.

Caleb nodded without giving much feedback. Sheila followed her gut instinct and decided to peek out—the soldier she spotted was already laid out on the ground, face bloodied with a small crater in the side of their head. From afar, Sheila saw a familiar somebody looting from the body and giving her a thumbs up. Sheila nodded and returned one back, giving them the okay to get moving. Sheila's stamina was impressive, demonstrating how she could move nonstop without breaking a sweat. It took a couple of minutes, but some of the Fireflies had reached the destination. When you, the Firefly, arrived at the sewer, two others came out of hiding to greet you and help lift the sewer lid. Caleb immediately toggled on his flashlight and aimed it down at the sewers, seeing it semi-flooded with murky green water. Caleb turned up his nose while others had other reactions,

"It's just some backwash. It rained two weeks ago," A Firefly said.

"Two went ahead and sprayed markings along the walls. So look out or else you'll get lost, understand?" The other Firefly said, "Just in case you do, the maps given to you are marked with the correct way to go."

Two other groups climbed down the ladder and jumped into the sewage water with a notable splash. Their reactions were telling, but they pushed on nonetheless. Sheila repeated "stay close" as she was next in line to climb into the sewers. Caleb followed her shortly afterward and was immersed in a mixed scent of rotten eggs and algae. He coughed and gagged, unintentionally causing some of the sewage water to splash up his nose. The flood stood about three feet, and Caleb and Sheila kept their hands above surface at all costs. They closely followed the other pair of Fireflies in front of them. If a Firefly happened to spot what looked like a white, graffitied, winged firefly on the wall of the sewers, it meant you were headed in the correct direction. The Firefly logo took a distinctive shape like a arrow with the head acting as the pointer. If you followed the pointer and continued to see more similar markings, you were on the right track—it was how Caleb found his way from the Golden Gate Bridge.

As a direct result of slowing down, two pairs of Fireflies managed to walk right past Caleb without any input effort. When Sheila turned speak to Caleb, she noticed his bizarre slowness for someone who was always quick on their feet. She waited for him to catch up, thus allowing the other Fireflies to leave them behind. It may have been a united militia, but your ass would be left in the dirt if it couldn't be helped. And nothing could help Caleb at this point.

"Caleb!" Sheila's voice slightly echoed in the enclosed tunnel. She obviously got his attention, "What the hell is taking you?" she asked.

Caleb stopped, carelessly let his arms touch the water. He looked back and forth as if his arms were being tugged in opposite paths. There was just something about the whole situation that was making him feel uneasy. Deep down, his gut weight heavy on him, so heavy it felt like a human paperweight. It wasn't letting him leave. And the longer he thought about it, the more he thought about James,

"It's James. Something still isn't right," Caleb softly confessed.

"Christ! Now isn't the time for that," Sheila embarrassingly said, looking around to see if anyone was listening. She tapped his chest with her finger, "You're letting this cloud your judgement. You _have_ to forget about him. He left us. If he were your friend, he would've never left you behind."

"H-He's more than that," Caleb boldly said.

Sheila tilted her head,

"More than what?"

Caleb returned a look that said it all. It's was almost like an embarrassed smile, but a full on confirmation. Sheila caught on to it and brought up her soaked hands to her forehead,

"Shit…" she ran a couple of fingers through her bangs, "Caleb. You're shitting me."

"Does it really make a goddamn difference!?" Caleb replied, "There's no way you could travel with someone as long as I did and just let them go like that! Sheila!" he said regaining her attention, "No goodbye? Nothing?"

Sheila sighed and looked up through the sidewalk drains,

"Fuck, you're gonna hate me," Sheila said. She couldn't bare to look at her reflection in the water too long because it would essentially be an unlikely confrontation between herself. Keeping her eyes closed, she looked up and spoke, "I sold him out, okay?"

"You _what_!?" Caleb shouted carelessly.

Sheila glanced at the sidewalk drains that led to the streets above, again. Opposed to doing it more politely, she aggressively shushed him and reached forward to touch him. Looking into his eyes and placing up her other hand in defense, she explained,

"Listen to me. He brought us time…"

"Sheila! How-!"

"There's normally more of them patrolling the streets, and the only reason we were even able to escape is because of him."

"Sheila, he was my friend. How could you do this to me?"

"He was one of them, I'm sorry! I didn't want to see you hurt or betrayed again."

"He wasn't going to betray me, Sheila! _You_ betrayed me!"

Sheila fought back tears,

"That isn't fair, Caleb...you know we're all each other has. Don't say that!"

They stammered over each other for a while, sounding nothing but unintelligible to one another. But Sheila managed to get her point across,

"How do you know he would've never betrayed you? Huh!?"

"I just do, okay? He knew he wasn't that type of person, even if he tried his damned hardest to be..."

"Listen to me," she said, reaching forward to place her hand on him whether he liked it or not, "We couldn't risk it. It was either you or him."

"We? This isn't about _us_ Sheila! This is about James and your prejudice towards him."

"Prejudice? Wow, you're in deep huh?"

"Too deep…" he said softly to himself.

Sheila sighed to herself, trying not to show the full extent of fear and remorsefulness she had towards Caleb. She shook her head and reached back for her handgun readied with a silencer. She knew she would get in some ill trouble for it, but she couldn't help but to ease some of the pain Caleb felt. For as long as she knew him, she came to love him like a brother especially after the departure of Ariel.

"I-I can't come with you. I love you, Caleb, but after this, you're on your own."

"I know," he said. Caleb reached forward and took the pistol for himself and counted the bullets in the magazine. For a swordsman, he thought it was enough, "Thank you."

He leaned in to give Sheila a hug and she embraced him for a while, sending a message to really take care of himself. It was a little patronizing to some extent but Caleb ignored his slight dislike for it because now wasn't the time. Before Caleb could leave, Sheila gabbed her walkie and contacted the only Firefly on the other side of town and out of harm's way. They were responsible of _solely_ answering and receiving intel.

"Firefly SR. What's the K-status?" Sheila asked twice.

"Last report makes current K-status…" there was a mild pause, "Seven. Five disposed."

"Copy," Sheila whispered with the walkie pressed to her lips. She clipped the walkie back to its previous place and spoke directly to Caleb, "Okay, so there were sixteen total when they came here. There's already seven dead, but there are two bodies that are out in the open, so if those bastards haven't discovered it yet, it's only a matter of time before they do. They thought they were watching us, but we always had our eyes on them from the time they stepped foot in this place."

After there were no longer any words to exchange, the silence was their cue to go their separate ways.

"You're really doing this…" Sheila acknowledged.

All Caleb could do was nod and give a final farewell. As Caleb pushed through the waters, Sheila remained in place. Caleb couldn't be the last childhood friend she ever saw again. She didn't want him to be.

* * *

The sewer lid was partially sealed, leaving a crescent shaped opening. It was easier to move but heavier than it looked, but beyond that point, Caleb had to worry about stepping back into the Firefly zone. As he fully climbed up the ladder, he was now exposed in the middle of a main road—crosslights and everything. He remained crouched at all costs just in case someone was still around. Doing the math from the intel he was given earlier, there was a total of nine soldiers left. It wasn't rocket science, but it was ridiculous to think that you could charge into nine armed enemies head on and alone—however, it could definitely be accomplished if done right. And as much as all those assholes deserved to die, there just wasn't much time.

Hearing a vehicle close in from one of the blocks, Caleb dove for the nearest spot for cover: In an enclosed crowd of bushes. Seeing that one foot at a time wouldn't work, he jumped into it, feeling the snapped branches tear through some of his clothes and sharply poke him in the sides. His left cheek stung like hell from a sharp scratch, but it was easily ignored. Nothing could hurt him anymore. Remaining still, he still managed to hear all that was occurring. After the slamming of two car doors, he overheard two soldiers speaking with another about the bodies found.

"Looks like they went through the sewers," one of them said.

"Should we go after them?"

"No. Inform Wells."

The other did as he was told. He turned his back and wandered off like an amateur. Caleb fought to get through the bush once again and seized the rare opportunity. Just then, the soldier heard his companion's body thud to the ground before he could make the call. Looking back and forth, he took a double take, frightened by the sudden sight of a lean young man emerged from the pit of a bush a couple feet away. In his hands were a handgun and a bullet was fired before a shaky breath could even leave his body. He ended up on the ground. The man was mortally wounded at this point, so all it took was one more bullet to end it all. Caleb ran from his position and pointed the gun down at the soldier. The soldier fought to say some words,, but Caleb fired without a moment's thought. Carefully looking around in hopes that no one saw him, he quickly dumped the bodies into the sewer. He looted their corpses beforehand, finding nothing useful except for a uniform; it was a size bigger, but he managed to pull it off. He would stick out like a sore thumb if he carried his belongings everywhere though, so the plan was to dump it in familiar places every encounter.

Following the same path in which they came, Caleb saw another soldier headed his way. Sweating underneath his uniform, he kept his head lowered to avoid erratic eye contact and facial recognition. As the opposites walked closer to each other, Caleb did the wrong thing by doing the one thing that always caused suspicion: Silence.

Caleb put his hands through the first unfastened set of his top's buttons and removed his hidden gun. As the soldier turned, Caleb was already facing him with the gun aimed at his face and he was killed by three, rapid, inaccurate shots. Murdering took a lot away from one's psyche, so Caleb always needed a couple of seconds to recollect himself. It would only be a matter of time before carrying on to assassinate whichever target he would undoubtedly run into next.

Grabbing the arms of the deceased soldier, he dragged the body out of street and rolled it down a small grassy slope that led to a very shallow crowd of weeds. The body was visible, but as long as it was out of sight, the chances of it being seen were minimal. The journey to wherever the military was stationed was insanely nerve-wrecking and tedious. All it consisted of was hiding in dark places and taking unintended routes all for the sake of being unseen. On the entire trek there, questions on whether James was still alive began to plague his mind along with plenty others. But there was one complicated question in particular that Sheila was the cause of: Would he choose their side?

He continued down Balboa Street until he passed the track field of a school yard. As he continued walking onto the next block, he saw something that made him believe his eyes were playing tricks on him. He squinted his eyes and blinked repeatedly, noticing three very real military vehicles parked right outside of the school building. James _had_ to be in there and it was worth checking. It would be foolish to prance through the front entrance, so Caleb backtracked and ventured into the school yard by sticking close to the building. As he walked against the wall like he were dancing along the edge of a cliff, he heard the rough opening of a window. Quickly, he walked until it was just above him. He was initially startled by the noise so badly, that he made a small peep. Luckily, the opening of the window cloaked it.

Caleb crouched until both knees touched the pavement. He wanted to wrap himself into nothingness in order to be unseen. As he remained hidden, a cup of coffee got thrown out of the window and landed a couple of feet away from him. Looking up at the window above him, he heard a fly unzip. Almost getting caught in the redzone, a geyser of urine missed Caleb by inches as he threw himself back against the wall.

The man began speaking. If Caleb was making out the words correctly, the soldier was justifyingly answering himself. Incoherent mumbling plus the strong smell of liquor was an obvious sign of drunkenness. Extensive pissing could also be an unethical symptom. The stranger walked away, leaving the window wide open for Caleb to make his entrance. The window was high but it was only a problem for someone who lacked height or upper body strength; Caleb had neither of those issues. Caleb slightly pulled himself up until his feet lifted from ground and until both eyes were looking inside the empty dark room. The textile floors reflected the few lights from the corridor. The school chairs were all shoved into one corner of the room and it was seemingly empty.

Tossing in his backpack first, Caleb waited to see if there were any reactions—negative. Caleb hauled himself into the window, gently bringing in one leg at a time. He avoided toggling on his flashlight to prevent getting caught by anyone in the area. Quickly running behind a teacher's desk for hiding, he heard uneasy footsteps returning back to the classroom.

"Shhhit. Lef the widow open…" the drunk mumbled.

Peeking out from the sides of the desk, Caleb watched the soldier stumble from one end of the classroom to the other end to close the window. As Caleb slowly rose from his crouch to pull the trigger, he fired one shot in hopes that he could get a headshot to spare some bullet, but that rarely worked out when Caleb had a gun in his possession. The soldier shouted as he fell to his knees as he in pain, immediately foretelling that his time was almost up. Quickly, he grabbed his pistol from his holster and began shooting frantically. That was it, Caleb's cover was officially busted. He remained hidden behind the desk and looked through the space underneath. Firing the bullet, he shot the soldier in the foot and rapidly fired until the soldier stopped moving.

The confrontation was pretty messy, even for Caleb. His sweaty skin glistened with a blue tint from the outside moonlight that shined in through the windows. He listened closely to the other voices coming in from separate directions of the corridors. They were all in pursuit of him. Looking around, he noticed that the clutter of chairs were stacked around a wide closet. Turning on his flashlight, he began to brainstorm how he could possibly make his way out of this.

Another pair of well equipped soldiers made their way into the same classroom. Although they shouldn't have been, they were shocked to see their buddy, who they previously knew as a drunk, dead on the classroom floor. While one soldier carefully examined the corpse, the other carefully walked to the only open window and searched the perimeter to catch anything suspicious. Naturally, the soldier thought the assailant probably got away. At this point, both were ready to leave and report the murder...but a noise to the far left of the entrance alarmed them. It sounded like soft knocks coming from the blocked off closet. One soldier pressed his index finger on his lips as a sign to be quiet.

"If you're in there, you might as well surrender. You're surrounded and everyone is already on red alert."

Both soldiers pushed the chairs aside as silently as they could until both were standing on opposite sides of the door. With a closer look, one of the men could tell it was left slightly ajar. One push and the door opened, having the corpse of a partially decomposed Infected thrown on top of him followed by a tidal wave of spores. The spores immediately flew into both of the men's lungs, something far worse than getting bit. Scarier than anything he had ever seen, the first soldier saw what looked like a monster with a long face and bug-like eyes. In reality, it was a perched Caleb on a slanted bookshelf with a gasmask. He dove down and struck one of the soldiers in the head with his sword. The second soldier was too busy being distraught to even fathom the slaughter that was happening in front of his very eyes. At this point, he was more than happy to accept death; he was on his knees, palms on the ground, watching the spores gather around him. He looked up, more than willing to accept his death.

* * *

 _( **A/N:** To those who are actually following my story, I'm very sorry for the long wait. __I've been very preoccupied.)_


	30. Chapter 29 - Predators

The room was dim and typically over one thousand square feet. Normally, a classroom like this could be fully lit with all nine ceiling lights, but only a pair in the front and the back worked. One flickered so much, there was no telling when it's time would be up. The room was completely dry and empty. There was a long pillar in the east side of the room, nearly worn to the core. The classroom possessed a strong moldy smell, perhaps caused by a flood or a sewage backup. Either way, the smell was almost unbearable. But all of that was minor when you were tied to a chair with a bruised and bloodied face. James was restrained in front of a chalkboard on the far north side of a classroom. Ten feet in front of him was a camcorder set up on a tripod with a bright light emitting from it. Behind the camcorder was a tall, husky man with sterile blue eyes and snow white hair, completely detached from his summer like environment. His face was filled with stubble and he looked free of any cuts, bruises or wounds—seeming falsely impenetrable.

James was startled awake by a fist to his face. Weakly leaning over to the side of the chair like a damp cloth, he struggled to sit erect, fighting the unbelievable pain inflicted on his ribs. He breathed heavily, spitting out the clots of blood that pooled up in his mouth every now and then. If it wasn't swallowed nor spat, it was uncontrollably leaking out of his mouth. He could see out of one eye, considering that one of them was swelled shut. He breathed heavily, pleading to be given mercy or death. Wells exposed himself, bringing himself into view again after he slowly circled his captive. He looked the very same from when he was last seen. His demonic blue eyes looked chillier than ever before. They looked cold and vacant of empathy whenever James happened to glance up at him. It was terrifying and truly monstrous. It was like had finally obtained the vision that Caleb acquired ever since the death of his brother.

"Why are you doing this to me?" James coughed, "Just kill me already!".

"Why am I doing this?" Wells repeated. He calmly rolled up his sleeves even further than they were before, "You know why I'm doing this, private. You betrayed my trust and made me look like a god damned fool. So, I want to know, what makes you think you and the Fireflies can get away with what you did to my home?"

"I already told you that I'm not a Firefly! I never wa—"

"Then why'd you run!?" Wells yelled, "Huh!?"

James hesitated, so he began to stammer,

"I-I know you wanted me dead. You never believed what I told you."

Wells leaned on a desk, crossing his arms and legs. Immediately, his eye shifted over to the doorway as a soldier barged in on the interrogation,

"Sir, there's been gunshots on the first floor and no one is answering their walkies."

Wells' evil eyes shot a quick glare at James, who seemed to be genuinely interested to the new acquired information. He didn't move or look to face the doorway, but he remained calm with his face was toward the ground, and his tough breathing had calmed all for the purpose of listening.

"My walkie was off since I'm taking care of something right now. Gather the rest of the troops and secure the facility. Shoot on sight," Wells demanded sternly.

After the soldier walked off, Wells stood in front of James and bent until they were eye-to-eye. Wells searched for anything other than the hope he had already diminished after their time together. Right away, he sniffed out a slight difference in the pain that James previously had a couple of seconds ago before the public service announcement. Wells immediately began to chuckle to himself. He wasn't stupid,

"Who do you think it is, Hm?"

"Huh?" James paused, "I-I don'—"

Well quickly stood up and delivered a blind and painful hook to James' face. So painful, Wells cracked two of his middle fingers. He slowly backed away to shake his hand free of the pain. All James could do was yell, loudly, in hopes of warding off the pain somehow. He kicked around as a response to the stinging, but couldn't do much because his legs were also retrained.

"FUUUUUUCK!" James yelled, continuously jumping in his seat.

"DON'T...lie to me…I've done this job too damn long to know when someone is lying to me!"

James took a while to respond. Every breath he took, every expression his made, every time he even tried to talk, something hurt. He gave a long groan,

"I wasn't lying when I told you I wasn't a Firefly…"

"After seeing how quickly they you up, I had questions. _That_ I can believe…but it can all end if you just give me what I want, James," James looked up at him, "All I need is that little Firefly you were with; Caleb."

"C-Caleb is dead…"

"No he's not James."

"YES! YES HE IS!"

"When my troops discovered that car accident, they only brought me back one body. There is no way you two can walk away from that crash without any assistance…"

James straightened his posture by fighting through the pain. He cleared his throat of any of the clogging blood and spat when it became too much,

"We...we were ambushed by a group. Some cult. They tried to kill us and I ended up getting away," James thought of more lies, "T-They killed Caleb while we were there. They shot me in the leg and he never got away…."

"Sure. Then you managed to survive this long and make it all the way to this base by yourself?" Wells pulled out a pistol from his holster and rested it on James forehead, "DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT SHIT?!" Wells shouted like a maniac.

He cocked back the hammer of his revolver, getting a kick out of watching a coward like James quiver and nearly shit himself. Slowly, he removed the gun and held it in his hand. James swallowed and didn't know how to cover up his lie. His current situation made things so much more difficult,

"I'm just gonna go on a hunch and say that you too looked past your little differences and became the best of buddies, huh? It only makes sense. That's what happens when a coward has nothing but another coward in a world like this. You become blind to who our true allies are. But the fact of that matter, James, is that he _has_ to reap what he sows," Wells returned to eye-to-eye level, something James was clearly flinching over, "So I'm going to calmly ask you one last time. Where is he?"

Slowly, the door began to open and Well turned to glance over at a man in uniform and gas mask,

"Did you secure the area?" Wells asked the soldier.

Examining closely, the soldier possessed both an unauthorized backpack and a katana on his back. The soldier quickly sprinted into the room and delivered a jump kick to Wells chest. Wells pulled the trigger a little too late as he was launched and thrown over the desk beside him. His gun went off and a shot was fired at the ceiling. Bullet number one. Wasted.

Quickly, the anonymous soldier turned to unbuckle James from the seat.

"Caleb…?" James said breathlessly. Evidently being as expected, Caleb looked up and softly touched James' injuries. James realized that Caleb's hands were trembling and he wanted nothing more than to hold them, "I'm fine, hurry and untie me."

Nervously, Caleb quickly used his sword to slice through the leather bonds quite easily, but there wasn't enough time to get to the final bond after he heard a loud gunshot. Caleb shouted in unbearable pain, feeling the bullet angle in through the back of his right shoulder. The speed and trauma of the bullet was so powerful that it broke and fractured bones around his shoulder joint. His arm fell limp and heavy like a damp rag. The camping bullet inside of him burned tremendously. Simultaneously as a jerk reaction, he uncontrollably flipped James' chair over in hopes of saving James from any incoming gunfire. He looked over his shoulder and saw Wells bleeding from a small cut on his forehead,

"I may not be as much of a spring chicken, but I can definitely kill you, boy…" Well said.

Caleb discreetly reached into his shirt and pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Wells, taking them all by surprise. As Caleb pulled the trigger, the gun made a dry _click_ , reminding of the times he carelessly emptied his bullets on the soldiers around the zone. Recovering from his life flashing before his eyes, Wells cocked back the hammer of his pistol and prepared to fire as Caleb hurled his handgun and immediately dashed through the exit. As Wells climbed over the desk and stomped towards the classroom exit, he felt a healthy tug on his ankle. Looking down, he noticed James attempting to hold him back. Using his impenetrable boots, he kicked James straight in the face, causing James to release and endure even more pain. With one leg still linked to the chair, he rolled on his back, covering his face in pain. Wells bent down and grabbed James by his mane and intentionally spat with every word that came out of his mouth,

"Oh no, no, no. I'm not finished with you yet. You're going to watch you're little friend die."

Wells roughly released James' head and barged out of the classroom with his revolver continuously pointed.

* * *

Unmasked, Caleb was lucky enough to get some distance between himself and Wells. One or two shots were fired in his direction, and everytime Caleb was fired at, he took note of it. Using his injured and bloody shoulder, he painfully shoved himself into a then unknown area, which was quickly identified as a cafeteria with the help of his flashlight. While some lunch tables remained folded, some had fallen over. The place reeked of rotten trash that hadn't been thrown out, and there were plastic trays and utensils strewn all over along with other things. No longer wasting any more time, Caleb toggled on his flashlight until he found a what he thought would be a secure place to hide; hunching into a space through three connected folded benches. It was like a thin, narrow tunnel with dried gum on the walls. Making it through the first bench and crossing over thought the second, Caleb silently peered through the separation: An insanely thin space. He turned off his flashlight and held his breath a few times. He heard the heavy boot buckles of Wells, jingle as they made it past the double cafeteria's doors,

"I know you're in here Firefly. So, you might as well come out," Well said, "Hiding won't save you, asshole. You'll bleed out eventually..."

Wells flipped on his own flashlight and began to scan the area. From where Caleb peered, he could see Wells doing vigorous yet aggressive search. Startled by a rat, Wells shouted, which almost caused Caleb to give away his spot. Still peering from his hiding spot, Caleb noticed Wells coming to search the opposite side of the room—his side. Looking down, he realized that there was a space underneath the lunch table. A flashlight aimed in his direction could easily cast some sort of human shadow. There were garbage bags visibly scattered on the outside left of the tables, so Caleb sat into a crouch, hoping to possibly pass as something inanimate if the light ever hit him from a certain angle.

Caleb's breath was the shakiest it had ever been and he covered his mouth and closed his eyes to somehow relax himself from the hysteria he was certainly feeling. As the footsteps came closer and closer, that's when he heard a bunch of garbage bags topple over on the far, back exit, of the cafeteria. From where Caleb was, he could hear Wells cocking back his hammer once again and quickly walking towards where the noises were coming from. Caleb rotated in place and cautiously watched as Wells exited through the back of the cafeteria. He stood there, in silence, awaiting Wells return. But once he realized that Wells might have been gone for good, he started moving. Carefully, Caleb slowly backed out the same way he entered. Once he was fully out, he prepared to burst into a full sprint. Turning, he bumped into a the arms of a figure who nearly fell over with him. Quickly regaining his stance, he covered Caleb's mouth so tightly, he couldn't make a peep. With his eyes clearly struck with alarm, it took him a while to focus and make out the figure holding him closely,

"Shh!" James shushed repeatedly, "It's me, it's me!"

It reminded him of the time they were back in Boston. Bumping into one another in another desperate struggle for escape. They look at one another, standing there in silence for a couple of seconds. James' stomach turned at the sight of his partner's limp arm, whereas Caleb couldn't bare to look at the face he felt he was responsible for hurting. Caleb stared directly into James' center, having his eyes beg to be invited. Having his wishes granted, they hugged one another. Using his only functioning arm, Caleb clenched him the tightest,

"I'm sorry I brought you here."

"Don't worry about that right now. We're alive aren't we?" James said, mustering up a smile even if it hurt like hell.

Caleb nodded with a forced laugher and went in for one last hug,

"Ouch!" Caleb winced, after feelings James' hand accidently placed on his open wound.

"Sorry," James apologized, "Not so easy being shot, is it?"

Caleb weakly laughed,

"Much less for being shot in the leg? I don't know how you did it…" Caleb bent down and picked up his sword, "Quickly. Follow me, I know the way out of here."

As Caleb quickly pushed through the double doors, Caleb pushed James back and ran inside from the sight of Wells spotting them both,

"RUN! RUN!"

As Well reentered the cafeteria, James tackled him from the side and tossed Wells to the ground. James groaned in pain, seeing that his body still ached in some places, but he was most admired for his undying will. Caleb turned to see James continuously throw himself onto Wells in order to prevent him from shooting at Caleb. Finally getting the upper hand, James straddled the captain and tried to deliver his heaviest punches. Although he tried his best, it was nothing compared to Wells' blocking skills. He was hit here and there, but it was all uncoordinated punches from a frantic punch that grew more and more frenzied by the looks of it failure. James lacked the skill and precision when up against someone like Wells,

"That's—ugh!" He grunted as he blocked more punches, "THAT'S ALL YOU GOT!?"

Grabbing his revolver, James brought back the hammer and fired the bullet. Like an animal with the sharpest instincts, Wells moved his head to the side, causing the bullet to ricochet off the ground. Using an inhuman pelvic thrust, James was nearly thrown off of him. They both rolled over, now placing Wells on top. As Wells prepared to hurt James further, Caleb ran in from behind and delivered an improper strike at Wells arm. He screamed, having the blade be stuck in his right forearm,

"FUCK!"

Caleb yanked out the blade and backed away as Wells gave a dizzying blow to James and retrieved his revolver.

"A noble captain wouldn't attack a man when he's at his weakest. That makes you an asshole!" Caleb spat.

"Then how else would we win?" Wells chucked back. Caleb swung a strike and his sword was easily knocked out of his grasp. Wells powerfully kicked him into the vertical walls of the folded lunch tables, causing it slam against the walls with sheer force. He pressed his gun against Caleb's chest afterward, "So, screw you, you sonuvabitch."

"Caleb?" James called out from where he weakly laid, "CALEB NO!"

Caleb had a theory and now was his chance to see if it had worked. He just didn't want to be this close and personal to experience it. Wells pulled the trigger and nothing but a click came out.

Caleb smiled,

"The revolver on average holds five bullets…"

Clearly frustrated, it looked as if his eyes went from a lifeless blue to a dingy red in seconds. Wells roared and pistol whipped Caleb in the forehead. Proceeding to grab him by the throat, Caleb used his own dull hands to pry Wells' monstrous palm from his neck, but it wasn't working. He clenched his eyes shut in pain, blindly being bum rushed to god knows where. Finally, he was slammed multiple times against a pillar and finally lifted and slammed on a wooden table that broke into separate pieces. Caleb was looking in the face of another soldier who was looking to strangle the life out of him. _What was the deal with soldiers trying to choke him?_ he thought. _Al, Scottie, now this asshole?_ But he wasn't going to settle for that, especially at the hands of a monster like Wells.

Realistically, just about anything could harm a person. So while in the midst of gasping for air, Caleb's veined eyes looked around and reached over for what appeared to be the snapped leg of the broken table. Being strong enough to pin his throat down with one arm, Wells used his free hand to hold Caleb's arm in place. A terrifying smile came across his face as he watched Caleb suffer. In Wells' mind, he felt wonderful psychologically and physically emasculating two men. But from behind, Wells felt a thick plastic become quickly wrapped once or twice around his neck. As he felt the pressure rise, he had no choice but to release Caleb and fight for his own life.

Caleb let out long and hoarse coughs, welcoming air better than he did when he walked out of a spore-filled room. He ignored the chance to recover. And after seeing James get an elbow to the face, Caleb grabbed the fancied wooden leg with his injured arm. He exposed a side with three varying nails pointing outward and bashed it into the side of Well's head. It was probably the loudest and longest Caleb had heard anyone yell. With the help of James, he was dragged off and tossed back. Ultimately, the killer scrambled away, fighting to get the nails unhinged from his skull. James limped toward Caleb and quickly helped him to his feet, essentially lifting him.

"We have to kill him…" James said.

Caleb looked up at him, seeing how the roles between the both of them had inevitably switched,

"We don't have to James. Let's just go."

"Little James is right," Wells said while struggling to stand, "If you don't kill me now. I'm never going to stop hunting you two down."

Wells looked to his right and saw where Caleb last dropped his katana. Following his gaze, Caleb and Wells both dashed to the weapon. With Wells being significantly bigger, a simple shove was enough to shove Caleb back a great distance. He picked up the sword and began to slice and every direction in which he could. Already an expert on his own weapon, Caleb easily dodged every one of Wells sloppy hacks. Backing up into a wooden stage-like platform, Caleb rolled aside to evade another vertical slash. The katana was wedged in so deep that Wells fought to remove it. James came in from behind and kicked in the side the side of Well's knee. As he had no choice but to kneel in pain, James grabbed him in a headlock and slammed his face unto the stage.

Now with Wells sight on James, they both engaged in their own scuffle, and the already weakened James was getting a severe beating. The scrap eventually traveled away from the katana, so the Firefly took it as his chance to retrieve his weapon. With his right arm completely useless, he was too weakened to remove it with just his left arm. It was caught in there pretty well. It could be removed, but with a great amount of time, and in a great amount of time, they would both be dead. As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Caleb removed his backpack and searched through his previous clothing. What he found hidden in a pocket was something he never imagined being so proud to see.

Wells was clearly growing tired and weak after being tag teamed on constantly. Seeking an opening, James went ahead and graciously yanked Caleb's katana out from the wooden stage after it had been loosened. He pointed the sword in Wells direction. He wielded it very amateurishly. Armed with his newly found weapon, Caleb remained behind him for some backup. Wells chased after them and stopped once he realized that James was not only armed but with Caleb. He was breathing heavily and had numerous bruises on his face. He even limped a little. At this point, Wells was hoping for his very own backup.

"This…" he took a deep breath and casually placed his hands on his hips, "This didn't go as planned," He watched the sword tremble dramatically in James' grip. At that point, he wasn't intimidated at all. He noted that coward soldier James was in the past, "Are you really up to butchering me with that sword James? It's a lot different than using a gun, you know."

"You don't know what I can do. I've used it before…"

"On a living, feeling, non-infected person?" Wells questioned. James swallowed. Wells smiled and stepped closer, "Once you hack off an arm that might not be enough to stop someone. You're gonna have to slit their throat, cut their head open, maybe disembowel them…something life ending"

James thought back to the time Caleb had defeated his enemies...and it was true. There was a lot of carnage that came with slaying. Too much that only a desensitized human could stand.

Caleb stepped between James, pointing his recent weapon. In Caleb's grasp was the shiny revolver James found on the Infected Albany and it was given to Caleb during what the thought would be their farewell Pennsylvania. However, it was loaded with one bullet, and had not been reloaded since. Caleb looked feeble and faint, slowly stumbling and trying his hardest to keep his eyes ajar,

"G-go to hell…" Caleb mumbled.

Caleb's stance was dizzy and kept gravitating to one side like he were about to fall over. As Wells took the opportunity to charge at Caleb, James dropped the katana and ran towards Caleb's side. Wrapping one arm around Caleb to keep him straight, he held Caleb's hand in place,

"SHOOT!"

Wells' head jerked in a different direction as he was jolted backwards and plopped to the ground. The recoil after the shot was so powerful it would've undoubtedly flew out of Caleb's grip if it weren't for the support. Ultimately, the boys stood in silence, both in disbelief that their run was probably over. Caleb pushed himself off of James and walked towards Wells' body; his lifeless cold eyes stared into the void of this forsaken planet. Unsure what feelings to have, he spat at Wells' corpse. James walked beside him and spat a bloody wad.

Suddenly, Caleb fell even dizzier and toppled to the floor on his broken shoulder.

"Caleb!" James cried, catching him in open arms.

James carefully placed him up and unfasted a couple of buttons to take a look at the wound through his back. There was no exit wound, which made things difficult. James rightfully began to panic. He had never dealt with this situation before. The longer James looked around, the more he realized that Caleb had lost excessive blood. James sat him up and rested his head into his lap. His face was becoming violet, and underneath both of his eyes were dark, heavy circles.

"I finally got the chance to save you for once Caleb mumbled…"

James fought back tears,

"Yeah, you did," he smiled.

"If I die, I think I'll be happier…"

James didn't answer. He diligently rested Caleb back on the floor and grabbed all of Caleb's belongings: His sword and backpack.

"Come on," James groaned as he helped Caleb up to his feet.

Holding on to one another for dear life, they both stumbled out of the room.

* * *

"Just...leave me," Caleb groaned in high pitches, "I'm...I'm slowing you down…" he said weakly.

"No! We're almost there! Just a couple more steps," James snapped back.

The early morning light was seen shining through various of the double doors in the school hallway. Once they finally made it through the last pair of doors, James saw the school properly emptied of any vehicles. It made sense why the soldiers never returned to backup Wells; they all wisely saved their own asses.

They both really struggled to make it down a couple of steps, and it felt like with every step, Caleb was just walking closer and closer to death with some of James' assistance. He didn't want that. He was trying extremely hard to keep it together. As important as it was for Caleb to get some rest, this was the wrong place to consider. The zones were no longer safe.

Barely making it down the block in five minutes, Caleb was completely passed out. James began panicking, checking for pulses and continuously trying to wake him up. He called out his name over and over and promised that everything was going to turn out okay. But he knew he had no control over that. James couldn't remember when he last felt this scared over Caleb's life. The thought of losing Caleb before wasn't nearly as devastating as it was now.

As he continued walked, he slowed down hearing a familiar yet unpleasant noise. Turning his head over his shoulder, James saw a military vehicle speeding towards his direction.

"Shit…" he groaned, picking Caleb up and carrying him in his arms, "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

He was a trooper who rarely ever gave up. He knew he couldn't outrun a vehicle, but he still bothered trying. Why?

As the truck sped past him, it screeched to a stop and blocked off their path. Climbing out of the car door was Sheila. James had never been more happy to see her.

"Oh, thank god!" James yelled, "Help him, please!"

Sheila ran out of the car and immediately opened the doors to the back seats.

"Lay him in the back!" She rushed, running over to help, "What happened!?"

James momentarily laid him up on the pavement,

"What's it look like?! He's been shot. There's no exit wound and he's lost a lot of blood. Can you take care of it?"

"We have to stop the blood or else he's gonna bleed to death!" Sheila rummaged through Caleb's backpack and used one of his previous shirts to form a shoulder sling. Sooner or later, Caleb was rushed into the backseat and they all speed up, leaving the Quarantine Zone behind, "What happened back there?" Sheila asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I'll explain later…" James said, holding Caleb's hand.

"Does he still have a pulse?"

"Yeah…" James confirmed after checking.

Caleb made faint moans, showing that he was still in touch with life. It wasn't much, but it was enough to ease their hearts.

"Then he'll be alright…" Sheila confidently said.

James squeezed Caleb's hands tighter. Lifting it and kissing his knuckles,

"The Fireflies? Can they help?"

After a long pause, Sheila looked into the backseat through the rear-view mirror,

"It's gonna be the three of us from now on. Everyone I know has left this life behind except for me. Caleb is the only friend I have left...I can't take that for granted. None of us should."

"Where will we go?"

"I know a place," the conversation took an awkward pause like in the past, but Sheila ended that, "Hey," she said, gaining James' attention, "Thanks for being there for him for this long. I barely recognized the person he was before…"

"Don't thank me. It was all him."

Sheila pressed on the gas and sped through the streets, heading towards the golden gate bridge far off in the distance.

* * *

 _( **A/N:** Just like _ Grey Journey _, it is up to you, the reader, to predict the outcome of these three. Does Sheila know of true sanctuary? Will Caleb live? How will James carry on if he doesn't? I'm glad many of you stuck with me this long until I finished. I apologize for the delays but I was very pleased with the outcome of_ New Leaves _and wanted it to be perfect. Thanks again to those who read and followed my story I hope you enjoyed it. Criticism on how I handled the characters would be heavily appreciated also. I can't promise anything, but keep an eye open for future_ TLoU _stories.)_


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